


As You Wish

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I don't know what to tag this as, M/M, Minor Character Death, Princess Bride AU, Yachi is a pirate fight me, just in case tho, nothing too bad, shit i should add, there's sort of implied tsukiyama i guess, this is not written as a serious thing lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4996600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama Tobio makes poor life decisions</p><p>Hinata Shoyou is unexpectedly badass</p><p>Sawamura Daichi believes in the importance of sportsmanship</p><p>Sugawara Koushi is one of the best fencers in the world</p><p>These four idiots go on an adventure together. It's great</p><p>Or the Princess Bride AU that nobody asked for but I wrote anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bride

**Author's Note:**

> This was not written as a serious thing, so just sit back relax and enjoy the ride I guess.
> 
> This is more closely based off of the book than the movie, so any major differences are due to that. 
> 
> Everyone in this is an idiot, have fun.

The year that Kageyama was born, the most beautiful person in the world was a young man named Akaashi Keiji. With a creamy complexion, heavy eyes, and a head of glorious, perfectly mussed, soft, inky black curls, Akaashi was blessed with many natural advantages in his life. Unfortunately, Akaashi’s beauty was not one that was built to last. Years of stress accumulated, one after the other, until his face was wrinkled and his eyes were drooping and his ebon hair was now streaked with gray. In the right light, one could definitely see the former beauty Akaashi had possessed, but it was only a shadow of its former glory. 

When Kageyama turned fifteen, the most beautiful person in the world lived in a country far away. She possessed a similar beauty to Akaashi, albeit one that was more delicate, and she was renowned all over the world for her gentle soul and extraordinary appearance. Her name was Kiyoko, and her lustrous hair and distinguishing beauty mark gave her a regal appearance, not unlike a queen. She had many admirers, but was never vain, and her remarkable work ethic and kind smile led many people to praise her beauty on the inside and out. After a time, however, her beauty was outshone by some ditzy young thing who lived a county over, and Kiyoko quietly faded from the public eye. 

Of course, Kageyama, at fifteen, could not really bring himself to give a rat’s ass about who was the most beautiful in the world. He was barely one of the top twenty most beautiful people, and that was primarily on potential alone. He detested washing, particularly behind his ears, and he played in the muck outside so often that he was perpetually covered in dirt. The only things he really cared to do were play volleyball and taunt the farm boy. 

Kageyama’s disposition had never been particularly sunny (which only served to detract from his beauty further), and whenever he saw the farm boy, he would go out of his way to make him do meaningless chores. He would say things like, “Farm Boy, go polish my volleyballs for me.” “Farm Boy, go clean all the pitchers in the house.” Farm Boy this, Farm Boy that. This was the extent of Kageyama’s interactions with the young man, and he had never been particularly interested in improving upon their relationship. 

The strangest thing about the farm boy was that no matter what Kageyama asked him to do, whether it be shovel the cow dung or clean the volleyballs or pick every space of grass off of the field Kageyama liked to play in, the farm boy would always do it without question. The only thing he would ever say in response was “As you wish.” 

Always, always, every single time, “As you wish” would be the farm boy’s only response, and it drove Kageyama absolutely _mad_. The way he saw it, if he was going to try to make the farm boy miserable, then he damn well better act miserable. But alas, the only thing the farm boy acknowledged him with was “As you wish”. 

Such was Kageyama’s existence. He spent his days playing volleyball, _occasionally_ helping his parents (never the farm boy, though), and generally making a mess of himself out in the dirt fields and the muck, along with protesting loudly whenever his mother tried to get him to bathe. If he had been given the choice, he would have most likely carried on this way for the rest of his life. 

But, it was not meant to be. 

Things began to change the year Kageyama turned sixteen. 

This change became evident when a boy named Kindaichi marched up to him with an indignant look on his face. He shoved a finger in Kageyama’s chest, his hair sticking straight up like a shallot. 

“You’ve gone and stolen them!” Kindaichi proclaimed. Kageyama narrowed his eyes. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“The _girls,_ you idiot! You’ve stolen them all!” 

And though Kageyama was not aware of it, he had. 

It wasn’t as though Kageyama was particularly interested in girls. They did not fall into the categories of “volleyball” and “teasing the farm boy”, and therefore Kageyama saw no reason to put any effort forth in interacting with the girls of the village. And yet, they began to follow him around, begging for a chance to just speak with him. The more adventurous ones showed up to his house, entreating him for a walk around the village or a friendly shared glass of milk. More often than not, they would be greeted with slammed doors and a curt refusal. 

The really crazy ones would have to be dealt with by the farm boy. The ones who camped outside Kageyama’s house, first extolling him, then turning to flinging insults through the window. 

“You think you’re too good for anyone, don’t you Kageyama?” they would ask, rejection turning them bitter. Kageyama couldn’t help but be amazed at the quick about-face these girls would pull. It was mind-boggling, how soon they would turn on him. 

These girls would be sent away by the appearance of the farm boy, who would quietly but firmly tell them to get their asses off the farm. Kageyama never thanked the farm boy for doing this, but at the same time he received the distinct impression that the thanks was never needed. 

When Kageyama was seventeen, a man passing by in a carriage caught sight of him playing volleyball in the fields. By this time, Kageyama was truly beginning to show signs of the beauty that was constantly masked by dirt and grime and a sour personality. His beauty was beginning to grow so strong that no amount of dirt would cover it, but it had not quite reached that point yet. 

The man who saw Kageyama was of little consequence overall , as he was merely some noble passing through the countryside, but he was stunned by the grubby figure in the distance, so much so that he returned to bring news of this remarkable person to the Count. 

At this time, the country of Florin was sandwiched between where Sweden and Germany would come to be. It was not a particularly large country, but it was powerful nonetheless. It sat directly across the Channel from Guilder, and shared a colorful history with the other country. Florin was ruled by a man named King Tanji, but he was old and senile and not really good for much. Anyone with a brain knew that Prince Ushijima ran things in Florin. 

The aforementioned Count was Ushijima’s second in command, though neither the count nor Ushijima were particularly fond of the arrangement. The Count’s name was Oikawa, and he heard news of Kageyama’s beauty and decided that he should go see what all the fuss was about. He took his trusted confidant, Iwaizumi with him, and together they set off towards Kageyama’s modest little farm to see if the rumors of his extraordinary countenance were true. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s arrival was announced by Kageyama’s mother. She was a shrewish old woman, with a face curdled like sour milk and a personality to match. She did not boast a particularly fearsome intellect, but she was at least a little aware that her child had some extraordinary qualities to him, and though she hadn’t the slightest idea how she had managed to give birth to him, she was satisfied to call him hers nonetheless. 

Kageyama’s father was a small older man, with gray hairs and a wrinkled face and an expression that was reminiscent of watery tea. He spared little love for his wife, but stayed with her anyway, more out of sheer stubbornness than anything else. He was stout and squat, with thick legs and a thick chest and thick arms and a droopy mustache. This mustache was his pride and joy, for it was all that remained of his hair aside from his eyebrows. He combed it carefully every morning, and if he’d been wealthy enough to afford mustache wax, he would have applied it liberally, in order to sculpt the ultimate mustache that would put anyone else’s to shame. He was not blessed with a particularly quick wit, but at least he knew it. He also was not sure how he had managed to father Kageyama, who was undeniably attractive despite his rather homely parents and personality, but he had seen him slide from the womb of his wife, and that was enough proof for him. 

Kageyama’s mother stood by the kitchen window in awe, her usually creased eyes wide and bright. She was practically drooling at the sight of the riches evident in the carriage before her. 

“Hey, you lout,”she called, addressing her husband, “Get over here and look at this.” 

Kageyama’s father joined his wife at the window, and was immediately struck dumb by the grandeur of the carriage that was for some unearthly reason parked in front of his house. They sat there in silence for several moments, and were only interrupted by the sound of Kageyama clattering down the stairs to receive his breakfast. He was admittedly rather concerned when he saw his parents standing by the window with no intentions to move anytime soon. 

“What are you watching?” he asked, coming to join them at the window. When his mother spoke, it was in a small, reverent voice. 

“The Count must be going to meet the Prince somewhere.” She muttered, pressing a hand over her heart. 

“Hunting. That’s what the Prince does.” Kageyama’s father added, his eyes moist. Neither of the old couple had seen so much money in their life, let alone casually flaunted in their faces through a pimped out carriage. Kageyama nodded, because of course the Count was merely passing by. There was no reason for him to stop on their farm. 

Which is why all three of them let out a collective gasp when the Count, his companion, and multiple servants piled out of the carriage and made their way towards Kageyama’s farm. 

Kageyama’s mother, always eager to please (though rarely succeeding in doing so), stumbled out of the house and flung the door open in an attempt to welcome the Count in a manner that seemed fitting. She ended up smacking herself in the face with the door in her hurry, bless her poor soul. 

Kageyama’s father quickly rushed past his unfortunate wife and bent himself over in an exaggerated bow. Oikawa raised an eyebrow at this, but, ever the charmer, he chose not to comment. 

“I am the Count Oikawa, though I am sure you have heard of me before.” Oikawa introduced himself, glancing around the modest house with a faint look of distaste. Kageyama’s mother had recovered by this point and nodded vigorously. 

“Of course, sir, we would be fools to not have heard of you before!” she yipped. Oikawa thought that Kageyama’s parents may be fools either way, but chose to follow the rules of decorum. He decided to address the matter quickly. It would be better to get this over with sooner rather than later. 

“Do you have a son? I was told that he was a person that I would be interested in meeting.” Oikawa asked. Kageyama’s parents exchanged a look. It was beyond their reasoning as to why anyone would wish to meet their son, let alone the only Count in Florin, but it was far from them to try and be contrary towards him. 

“Tobio!” his mother screeched, and Oikawa winced at the grating noise. Even Iwaizumi, normally the ever-stalwart companion, seemed rather vexed by the farmer and his wife. Oikawa was seriously considering packing it in and leaving. He highly doubted there was anyone beautiful enough for him to deal with all the muck and idiocy and general discomfort. 

His train of thought stopped there, however, for Kageyama had stepped outside. 

Keep in mind, Kageyama was still rather filthy, with ratty hair and dirt smeared all about. His clothes were grungy, the backs of his ears unwashed, and his neutral expression could only properly be described as sour. And yet, despite all of this, Oikawa was stunned by the potential lurking beneath the surface of the muck. 

Oikawa could now grudgingly admit he understood why the matter had been brought to his attention. 

“Tobio, dear, bow in the presence of your superiors.” His mother hissed out of the corner of her mouth. 

Kageyama did his best. 

Oikawa pursed his lips and turned to Iwaizumi. He seemed to be rather distracted, peering off at something in the distance rather than focusing on the matter at hand, which frankly left Oikawa a little peevish. He went to reprimand Iwaizumi, when his companion spoke for the first time. Kageyama and his family jumped at the new voice in the conversation. 

“Who is that?” Iwaizumi asked. He was pointing off in the distance, at the farm boy, of all people. Kageyama frowned. His father looked confused. 

“That’s our farm boy, he’s been working here since he was young, though I don’t see why it matters all that much-“ 

Iwaizumi cut off Kageyama’s father with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“I would like to speak with him, he looks as though he would be a good member of the Palace Guard.” Iwaizumi requested. Oikawa shot him a look, one that he was particularly proud of. It said, loud and clear, _whatever the fuck you think you’re doing, stop it._ Iwaizumi ignored it. Oikawa pouted. 

Iwaizumi excused himself from the conversation and went to go speak with the farm boy, and Oikawa felt obligated to follow. 

Kageyama watched these proceedings with no small amount of confusion. He had no idea why the Count was here, he had no idea why Iwaizumi wanted to talk to the farm boy, and he had no idea why the idea of Iwaizumi talking to the farm boy was _bothering him so damn much_. 

As he watched in the distance, the farm boy was chatting amiably with Iwaizumi and the Count, gesturing wildly and shouting about some nonsense. After a few moments, the Count left the conversation and returned to Kageyama and his family. 

“Sorry about the interruption.” He apologized, his voice carrying a strange quality to it. Kageyama didn’t particularly care for the soothing way he spoke. “My comrade is off talking business. In any case, I only wished to stop by for a brief visit, so as soon as Iwaizumi is finished with your farm boy, we will be on our way.” 

Kageyama’s mother nodded, a little confused but not intelligent enough to raise any questions about the situation. Kageyama merely stayed silent. Iwaizumi was still conversing with the farm boy, and as Kageyama watched from a distance, the farm boy burst into an easy, wide grin. 

Kageyama didn’t think he had ever seen the farm boy smile before. 

It was quite nice in his opinion, though he would never, ever admit it. 

But Iwaizumi was still over there, talking to the farm boy. And the farm boy was still smiling. 

Oikawa’s voice drew Kageyama out of his thoughts. 

“I suppose Hinata will come to join us at the palace sometime soon. He seemed very enthusiastic about joining the Guard.” He commented, watching the conversation with a cool expression. Kageyama frowned a little harder than usual. 

Iwaizumi finally withdrew from the conversation and came to join the others. He nodded once at the Count, and Oikawa gave a simple farewell. Soon, the gilded carriage was rattling away on the dirt road away from Kageyama’s home. Kageyama glared daggers at it as it left. 

“That farm boy doesn’t seem as though he’d be very good working at the Palace.” Kageyama’s mother remarked (this was later that evening, over dinner). Her husband hummed quietly to himself before taking a bite of stew. He moved to speak, not bothering to swallow his food beforehand. 

“I don’t know. He is a little shrimpy, but he’s stronger than he looks. He might make it.” He remarked. 

“I don’t feel well. I’m going up to my room.” Kageyama announced, fleeing the table. His stew rested largely untouched. 

Kageyama changed out of his clothes and into his pajamas. He lay flat on his back and stared up at the ceiling. 

And Hinata was smiling at Iwaizumi. 

Kageyama tossed his volleyball up in the air, catching it as it came down. He did this for ten minutes. 

Hinata was still smiling at Iwaizumi. 

Kageyama sat bolt upright and started doing stretches, a frown resting heavily on his face. Exercise, he thought, would take his mind off of things. 

Hinata was smiling at Iwaizumi. Hinata was packing up his things. Hinata was leaving the farm and going to work as a guard in the palace. 

Kageyama felt vaguely feverish. 

“It’s not as if I would miss the idiot.” He muttered to himself. “I must be delusional because I’m not feeling well.” 

He repeated this to himself a few times, but the more he did so, the more he knew it wasn’t true. He tossed and turned and tried to just ignore the revelation, refusing to pull himself out of the mire of denial. 

But, every time he closed his eyes, Hinata was still smiling at Iwaizumi. 

There have been eleven recorded epiphanies in the history of this world that are considered to be truly earth shattering. The one that Kageyama had that night could easily rank among the top five. 

As he sat there, obsessing and worrying and gnashing his teeth, he came to a realization. 

There was a distinct chance that he, Kageyama Tobio, had a crush on the farm boy. 

So, as a man who tended to make rather questionable decisions, he decided to immediately rush over to the farm boy’s hut and tell him so. 

He rapped loudly on the door, and yelled “Open up, dumbass!” 

The door creaked open, and the farm boy stood there with half closed eyes and a shock of bright orange hair. Finally realizing the full impact of what he was about to do, Kageyama was hit with a sudden sense of ridiculous embarrassment. But, because Kageyama was far from the sharpest tool in the shed, he pressed on anyway. 

“So uh, I know I uh, have not always been the nicest to you, but, um, I might, possibly, maybe, have um… have a crush on you? Maybe?” 

Hinata stood there for a moment, and did not speak a word. Kageyama felt as though his heart would burst. 

Hinata slammed the door in Kageyama’s face. 


	2. The Bride pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, I was not expecting the response this has gotten. Thank for the comments and kudos, you all are amazing! I appreciate that you all take the time to read my stuff. :)
> 
> To answer a question that was posed to me previously, this is based off of the book instead of the movie. There are obviously similarities between the two, the book just has more content. 
> 
> Anyway, here's the new chapter! I'm feeling particularly prolific today, so I might actually finish up the third chapter tonight as well, it remains to be seen. 
> 
> Hope you like it!

For a moment, Kageyama simply stood there in shock. He stared at the door, as if searching for answers. The door was rather unhelpful in this department. Hinata had simply closed the door without a word. He had said nothing, not even a “sorry” or “go away”. He hadn’t even given a proper response, which, if you asked Kageyama, he’d say was pretty rude. 

There was a brief second where Kageyama considered banging on the door until Hinata came back outside and gave a proper response, but in the end, he decided that he was far too tired, and needed some rest. Bad things happened when you were overtired, after all. His mother had been overtired the night his father had proposed. 

And so Kageyama commenced what felt like the longest walk of shame in his life. His footsteps fell heavy, his countenance was grim, his eyes were watering ever so slightly. Sure, it had been a little sudden on his part, but that didn’t mean Hinata had to slam the door in his face. He hadn’t said a single word. Was he mute? Deaf? Did he just not hear him? 

Of course. 

Hinata just hadn’t heard him. That had to be it. The alternative was simply ridiculous. Kageyama smiled to himself and felt a slight spring return to his step. He would just clear up the matter. 

He returned to his room, laughing a little bit. What a misunderstanding. Everything would be fine tomorrow, of course. 

And then he promptly burst into tears, because there is only so much you can lie to yourself. 

Hinata had obviously heard him. He wasn’t deaf, or stupid, or anything like that. Hinata just didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. Kageyama held no real significance to him, and that was that. 

Kageyama was a bit of a brat, but even brats have feelings, and Kageyama spent most of the night drowning in them. He didn’t cry as much as he had before, because he was too tired to properly do so, but he stayed in his room all morning, quiet and unassuming, not coming down for breakfast or lunch or even to play volleyball. His parents knocked on his door, entreating him to come out, but he failed to respond. He lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, splayed out like a starfish, unmoving. 

That night there was a tentative knock on his door, different from the solid pounding of his mother’s fist. Kageyama opened the door, to see Hinata standing there. Kageyama could feel his mean streak rising to the surface. 

“Oh, farm boy, it’s you, how droll” he remarked, putting on a fancy air, “I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s a good thing you stopped by, I wanted to apologize. The joke I played on you last night was rather cruel, wasn’t it? I didn’t think it had really bothered you, but when you closed the door I was worried I had acted too convincingly. I could never have a crush on you, after all, you’re just a simple little farm boy, and-“ 

“I’m leaving.” Hinata replied. Kageyama stopped talking. He stared at Hinata with an incredulous expression. 

“You mean you’re going to bed, and you just thought you’d stop by? That’s very nice of you, but there’s no need-“ 

“Stop acting stupid, Kageyama. I’m leaving the farm. I’m here to say goodbye.” Hinata rolled his eyes. Kageyama stared at him. 

“You’re leaving?” he asked. Hinata nodded, his face solemn. Kageyama swallowed hard. 

“It wasn’t because of what I said last night, was it?” he asked. Hinata nodded. 

“It was.” 

“So I suppose you’re running off to join the palace guard then, to go play with swords like a little kid.” Kageyama sneered, his waspish tone disguising the hurt in his voice. Hinata scrunched up his nose. Kageyama kept talking. 

“You think you’re too good for the farm now, don’t you? Just because of that asshole Iwa-whatever the hell it was. Even if you’re strong, it’ll be difficult. I don’t know if you’ll last.” 

Hinata just stared at him. 

“Just know that if you come back, I’m not going to hire you. You can go gallivant off with the Count and Iwaizumi and whoever the hell you want. I don’t care.” Kageyama announced. At this, Hinata cracked a smile. Kageyama bristled. 

“What’s got you so happy, huh?” he demanded. Hinata let out a little sigh and grabbed his hand. Kageyama froze. 

“I’m not going to join the palace guard, idiot.” When Hinata spoke, his voice was firm and his eyes were clear and his hand _was still holding Kageyama’s._ He smirked. “Stop saying you don’t care, you’re a shitty liar.” 

Kageyama didn’t trust himself to form a coherent sentence. 

“I’m going far away, to make a fortune for myself. One day, I’ll be rich and happy and then I’ll come back and make you the happiest person on the planet.” Hinata announced. Kageyama blinked. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. What? What’s going on? What do you mean?” he demanded, finding his words once again. Hinata shook his head. 

“I guess you never have been the brightest. Do you know what I’m saying?” he asked. Kageyama shook his head. 

“Why are you going?” he asked. Hinata gave a happy little sigh. 

“I thought it was pretty obvious, but I guess not. I like you, Kageyama. A lot. I could’ve left this farm a long time ago, you and I both know that. There would’ve been no reason for me to stay if you weren’t here. I work hard all the time, every day, for not a lot of money, just so I can see you. I’m going to leave so I can buy myself a nice house and have you come live with me and make myself the life that I’ve always wanted. Do you get it?” Hinata asked. 

“I don’t, actually. I’ve never been particularly nice to you, and though I am very happy, I don’t understand exactly why you care?” Kageyama explained. Hinata shrugged. 

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t really either.” Hinata replied. Kageyama made a face. “But I do care, and that’s what matters.” 

Kageyama nodded. He could be satisfied with that. But, his satisfaction quickly gave way to confusion. 

“If you’ve liked me for a while, why haven’t you said anything?” he asked. Hinata rolled his eyes. Kageyama wished he wouldn’t do that so often. 

“I have, every day. God, every time you asked me for something, I said so. I said ‘I love you’ every damn time, but all you ever heard was ‘As you wish’. I’ve said it for years and years, and you never heard.” He explained. Kageyama felt heat rushing to his face, and he stared at the ground, unable to meet Hinata’s eyes. 

“So you do like me?” he asked. 

“Of course I do! Here, let me say it. I like you. I’ll spell it out. I ell-eye-kay-ee why-oh-you. Here it is backwards. You like I. I’ll say it louder. _I like you_. Is that enough?” he asked. Kageyama rolled his eyes. 

“I suppose.” He huffed. He was a little miffed that Hinata was making fun of him at a time like this, but he supposed it was a forgivable offense. 

“Now that that whole mess is cleared up, I really do need to leave.” Hinata announced. Kageyama’s heart skipped a beat. It didn’t seem entirely fair, that once he had Hinata all to himself the dumbass was leaving the country. Hinata squeezed his hand and gave a soft smile. Kageyama bit his lip hard, promising himself he wasn’t going to become too upset. 

“You better write me, you understand?” Kageyama demanded. Hinata nodded. 

“Of course.” 

Hinata stood up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Kageyama’s temple. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it, and then I’ll be around you so much you’ll get sick of me in a week.” He laughed. Kageyama’s brain imploded. 

Hinata turned to leave, and his figure set against the rising sun cut a dramatic figure. Kageyama swallowed down the lump in his throat. 

Hinata took one, two, three steps. He didn’t turn back. Kageyama watched him go. Hinata took another step. 

“Wait!” 

Hinata turned, only to see Kageyama barreling towards him. Kageyama grabbed Hinata and pulled him close in a crushing hug, pressing kisses into his fluffy orange hair. Hinata extricated himself gingerly, and though he was smiling, his eyes were moist. 

“I’ll miss you.” Kageyama sighed. “You better write me a letter every damn day, ok? Every single one.” He ordered. Hinata laughed and nodded. 

“I promise.” 

And with that, he set off, leaving Kageyama behind. 

The morning after Hinata’s departure left Kageyama feeling quite despondent, and he moped about for several hours while his parents continued to bicker downstairs. He was quite lost in his reverie, considering the future and how Hinata was doing and what he planned on doing while Hinata was away, et cetera et cetera. 

Then, a thought crossed Kageyama’s mind. 

What if, while Hinata was far off in some crazy place, a pretty girl caught his fancy? Or a pretty man? What if Hinata thought about how grungy Kageyama was and decided he was much better off with some city girl? 

Kageyama didn’t know that this was entirely impossible, because Hinata was quite smitten, so he began to fret. He didn’t want to be upstaged because he failed to take care of himself. If Hinata caught sight of a prettier girl, a smarter man, a kinder person, would he be lured away? 

Kageyama immediately rushed down stairs to greet his parents. His father’s mustache was looking particularly sprightly today, and his mother’s hair was neatly combed. 

“What can I do to improve my appearance?” he demanded. 

“Start by washing and combing your hair for once.” His father supplied. 

“Make sure to get behind your ears.” His mother added. 

“Drink a lot of water.” 

“Wear cleaner clothes.” 

“Don’t play in the muck so often.” 

“Thank you, that will suffice for now.” Kageyama thanked them, and set off to do as he was told. 

It was at this time that Kageyama’s beauty began to reach its full potential. 

He scrubbed himself every day and brushed his hair and tried his very best to look presentable, and the results were showing. His skin was smooth, and tan from days spent out in the sun. His hair was soft and dark, like a crow’s feather or black silk. His eyes were not quite gray and not quite blue, and their dark gaze sent the village girls swooning. Spending so much time on his appearance was exhausting, but every time he began to falter he remembered Hinata and began to work twice as hard. 

His beauty was not delicate like Kiyoko’s, nor thick like Akaashi’s, but rather striking, all dark lines and deep colors and solid expanses. He was fit, from playing volleyball so often, and he was rather proud of his muscles at this point. 

He did not improve himself for his own vanity’s sake, but only so that when Hinata came back he would be in awe of how Kageyama was, and picturing Hinata’s face when he saw Kageyama after he came back gave Kageyama immense pride. 

Hinata wrote him every day, describing life on the ocean and how much he missed Kageyama and how he couldn’t wait to come home. Reading the letters only made Kageyama more beautiful, and the other villagers noted that he seemed happier as well. The other teenagers would ask him about Hinata, and he would go on for hours. Hinata was smart, brave, handsome- he could go on forever. 

In the time that passed while Hinata was away, Kageyama began to consider the possibility that he was in love with him. 

All of this was why Hinata’s death hit Kageyama the way it did. 

Kageyama hurried down the stairs that morning, expecting breakfast, only to see his parents sitting at the table looking grim. 

“Off the coast.” His mother muttered, her eyes sad. 

“Without warning, at night.” His father whispered, his mustache drooping. 

“What?” Kageyama asked. 

“Pirates.” His parents responded in unison. 

Kageyama felt that he should sit down. 

“He was taken prisoner then?” he asked, hoping against hope. 

His mother shook his head. 

“It was the Dread Pirate Yachi. She takes no prisoners.” His father supplemented. 

“Oh.” 

And with these words, Kageyama stood. Left the room, closed the door quietly behind him. He didn’t leave his room for a week. His parents did not try to get him to come out. One morning, he ghosted down the stairs with a neutral expression. He grabbed a cup of tea and sipped it quietly. 

“Are you alright, dear?” His mother asked. Kageyama placed his tea on the table. He had a look of agelessness about him. He seemed like a man who had seen many things. He had emerged from his room a trifle thinner, a little sadder, much wiser, and impossibly lovely. He seemed far more aware than he had ever been before. 

“I’m fine.” He responded, taking a sip of his tea. 

“Are you sure?” his father asked. He didn’t respond for a long time. 

“Yes.” He said slowly. “But I must never love again.” 

And he never did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who doesn't think Yachi would make a great pirate can fight me.


	3. The Groom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I busted ass all morning and got this written in a day. Hooray! 
> 
> Finally get to see Daichi and Suga (for like 30 seconds lmao)
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the lovely comments and kudos, y'all inspire me to keep writing!
> 
> Hope you like it!

Prince Ushijima was shaped like a barrel. There was no other way of putting it. He had a barrel chest and legs that were sturdy like barrels and he had been that way since he was a small child. He wasn’t particularly graceful as a result, and if he had attempted to become a dancer or anything requiring finesse really, he would have been doomed to a life of frustration. A person like him was more geared towards athletic pursuits. Others may have chosen volleyball, basketball, perhaps even running. Ushijima chose hunting. 

He would have been the first to admit that he obtained a certain pleasure out of ending something’s life, no matter how much judgement he received. Ushijima tended to be rather blunt, in many matters. It was not a pleasure that he could truly describe in a way that was succinct, but it was there, and Ushijima craved it. 

Hunting was his love, and it left very little room for any other kind of love in his life. Unfortunately, as King Tanji’s son, Ushijima was expected to marry someone and potentially produce an heir. These actions usually had love listed as a prerequisite, to Ushijima’s chagrin. However, the king had been living for a very long time and there had been no need for Ushijima to find a wife, so the prince went along killing beasts and being barrel shaped for quite some time. 

And then Oikawa showed up and ruined everything, as usual. 

“Your father’s dying.” The Count announced, tossing the memo towards Ushijima. The Prince caught it with ease and read over the diagnosis. It appeared that Oikawa was right. 

“Damn!” Ushijima cursed, “That means I have to be married.” 

The first girl that Ushijima met with seemed like the perfect match. Princess Hana Misaki of Guilder was her name, and she was quite witty, though rather vulgar at times. Her beauty was nothing to be scoffed at, either, as she had lustrous chocolate colored hair and skin like cream. Though Ushijima wouldn’t have loved her, she would have made a fine queen, and soothed the tumultuous relationship between Florin and Guilder. 

She would have made a fine queen, that is, if she hadn’t come to blows with the prince over the dinner table. (Though some argued that she would have made an even better queen because she fought him and lived to tell the tale) 

She had landed a solid punch before Ushijima could even react, and if Ushijima had been less formidable, there is a chance Hana would have won. But as it was, she was dragged away by the palace guards and sent immediately home to Guilder. When asked about the conflict upon her arrival home, she had muttered something along the lines “Fucking Ushiwaka, thinks he’s God’s gift to the world.” 

Oikawa had been cheering her on as she punched the prince in the face, though he would deny it if anyone asked. 

Needless to say, Hana was not destined to be the future queen of Florin. 

The next person was a young man from the countryside named Terushima. He would’ve been a decent choice, but his rather excitable personality was nothing short of grating, and when asked, revealed that he had only agreed to meet Ushijima because he was in it for the money. 

Ushijima was not bothered by this. Terushima wasn’t his type at all anyway. 

After the third failed meeting, Ushijima gave up. 

“I don’t even care anymore who it is! Just get me some random pretty person, and I’ll marry them and call it good!” he cried. Oikawa thought for a moment. 

“I…suppose there is one person that comes to mind.” He remarked. 

“Who is it? We shall go to see them at once.” 

They arrived at Kageyama’s farm early in the morning. 

“He plays out in the fields often.” Oikawa remarked, surveying the area. 

“He’s just a farm boy, huh?” Ushijima asked. Oikawa nodded. Ushijima hummed, deep in thought. 

“I don’t know how that will fare for my reputation. If I am to lead a country I need someone respectable to-“ Ushijima stopped speaking at this point, for he had seen Kageyama coming outside. (Remember, even though Kageyama was very upset, he was still quite beautiful) 

“I don’t think anyone will judge you for marrying him.” Oikawa remarked. Ushijima didn’t respond, merely ventured over to Kageyama. 

Instead of greeting Kageyama, Prince Ushijima felt it best to address the matter directly. 

“I am your prince and you must marry me.” He ordered. Kageyama narrowed his eyes. 

“I am your humble servant and I am obligated to say no way in hell.” He snapped. Ushijima frowned. 

“I am your prince and you will do what I say.” 

“Once again, I must refuse.” 

“I am not that bad-what reason do you have to deny me?” 

“It is impossible for me to love you, and generally love is considered to be a prerequisite for marriage.” Ushijima rolled his eyes. 

“Who said anything about love? I just need someone to marry so I can take over the throne when my father dies. You will be granted a position of power, what more do you require?” 

“I won’t love you. I already don’t even like you.” 

“I wouldn’t want your affection even if I had it.” 

“Then I guess we’re getting married.” 

With the preparations made, Ushijima returned with Oikawa and Kageyama to make himself a husband. 

As it was, with one thing and another, three years passed. 

When Kageyama was twenty one years old, he was introduced as Ushijima’s future spouse to the citizens of Florin. 

Rumor of the future prince’s beauty had spread across the country, and in the palace square that day, there were thousands upon thousands of people. People old and young, thirsty and curious, thin and tall, had come from all over to see Kageyama. 

He wasn’t quite sure he was totally comfortable with the attention. 

Ushijima raised his arms to silence the throng and began to speak. 

“As my father is quite ill, it is time for me to take a spouse to help me rule this land. You have not seen him yet, but be rest assured that he will make a fine ruler of Florin. In three months, we will be wed, on the five hundredth anniversary of Florin. And so, to celebrate the occasion, you shall meet him now. Ladies and Gentlemen, your future King, Kageyama Tobio!” 

The crowd erupted into cheers as Kageyama stepped forward, looking quite regal in his royal clothing. He had been beautiful before, but now that he had attendants to comb his hair and make sure his skin was blemish free and healthy, he looked even more radiant than before, if that was possible. 

He waved at the people below him in a rather shy manner. Kageyama had never received so much attention publicly, and it was quite a surreal experience. They stood there for a few moments, before Ushijima made to leave. 

“What are you doing?” Kageyama asked. Ushijima blinked. 

“They’ve seen plenty of us by now, we might as well go back inside. Don’t want to risk catching a disease or something.” Ushijima remarked. Kageyama frowned. 

“I’m going to walk with them.” He responded. Ushijima furrowed his brow. 

“Why on earth would you want to do that?” he asked. Kageyama rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not like they’re going to hurt me or anything. Just wait here.” With that, Kageyama came down from the balcony, and appeared on the front steps moments later. He began to walk among the people and wave to them, shaking their hands and greeting them formally. 

The masses parted before him as he went along, nodding at his future subjects and shaking so many hands he thought his fingers would fall off. Many of the people had never been this close to someone so beautiful, and adored Kageyama instantly. Others were jealous, of course, and only three were plotting to kill him. 

And far away, in the corner of the room, stood a man. A man dressed in all black. A man with blazing eyes, an incinerating gaze, and a cruel disposition. 

This man watched Kageyama very, very carefully… 

Kageyama was quite tired after visiting with the people, so he decided to wander off for a walk to clear his head. The woods near the castle were thick and vibrant, especially in the fall, with reds and golds and oranges painting the landscape. The colors often reminded him of Hinata, but Kageyama would never pursue that train of thought too far. 

He would pursue other thoughts, however. His walks were when he did his best thinking. He thought about the future, about Ushijima, about his impending wedding. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had made a grave mistake by agreeing to be Ushijima’s bride. He didn’t love Ushijima, didn’t even particularly like him, and wasn’t actually very interested in ruling Florin either. Despite that, he was marrying Ushijima in three months and was about to become the next King. 

It was times like these that Kageyama would wish Hinata was still alive. Kageyama was the most beautiful person in the world. He was about to be one of the richest and most powerful as well. But he couldn’t help but feel sickened by his circumstances. Everything seemed wrong, the colors too dull and his future too bleak. However, there was little to do about it now. 

Kageyama had learn to accept what life had to offer. Every time he raised his hopes, they were shattered within moments. He had resolved not to aspire to too high of heights anymore. 

Night was beginning to cloak the horizon when Kageyama crested the hill. He was about fifteen minutes away from the castle by foot, and not many people were around in this area. He was continuing on his rather melancholy way, when he stopped, for on the path stood the strangest trio he had ever seen. 

A young man leaned against a tree nearby. He had the stature of a reed, tall and thin, with bony limbs and a rather sharp face. The top of his head was reminiscent of a dandelion, if Kageyama was being perfectly honest, and gave off the impression that the man had worked hard to get it that way. A pair of thick rimmed glasses rested on his nose. Kageyama scrunched up his face. Everything about the man screamed arrogance. He gave off the most intense aura of pretentious dishevelment Kageyama had ever seen in his life. 

Behind him stood two men, each vastly different in appearance. A pale young man sat on the path with his legs stretched out in front of him, looking rather bored. A shining silver sword rested on his lap, the same color of his hair. He was thin and whip like, and Kageyama could tell even from a distance that he had a cat like grace. 

A giant stood behind the tall man, with heavy arms and a broad chest and thighs the size of tree trunks. He looked strong, and though he was rather short, Kageyama immediately got the impression that he did not want to get in a fight with this man. Not that Kageyama would want to get in a fight with anyone. He wasn’t very good at fighting. 

The odd trio perched along the path, and Kageyama was about to hurry along when the tall blonde man spoke. 

“Excuse me, sir, would you mind providing me some assistance?” 

Kageyama nodded warily. 

“We are but poor circus performers. It is almost dark and we are lost. We were told there was a village nearby that would provide us with shelter. Would you be particularly opposed to directing us toward said village?” the man asked, an angelic smile resting on his face. Kageyama shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but there is no one around here for miles.” 

A wicked grin crossed the blonde man’s face, and Kageyama knew he’d made a grave mistake. 

“Excellent, then no one will be able to hear you scream.” 

Upon these words, the blonde man lunged towards Kageyama’s face with frightening agility; perhaps Kageyama had screamed, but he could not remember much aside from the sensation of fingers pressing against his neck, then a static blackness spreading across his vision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for two cameos from Johzenji~
> 
> Terushima is a gold digger and I'm not ashamed to make him so


	4. The Announcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the lovely comments and kudos, you all are absolutely lovely! 
> 
> Sorry I didn't update anything last week, I was out of town visiting family. :) 
> 
> Hope you like it!

Kageyama awoke on a boat. 

Which was rather unfortunate, since Kageyama was prone to seasickness. 

He had been wrapped up in a blanket, and his limbs felt weighted with lead. The man with the ridiculous thighs sat next to him, chatting amiably with the silver haired man. What he heard made his blood run cold. 

“Do you think we’ll end up killing him now or later?” the first man asked, leaning back nonchalantly. 

The smaller man shrugged. 

“I dunno, I suppose it’s up to Tsukishima what we do with him.” He replied, nudging Kageyama with his foot. “Speaking of which, you need to wake up, kiddo. You’ve got a long road ahead of you.” 

Kageyama peered upwards to face the two men with a sour expression. The man with the thick thighs stared down at him with an unnerving expression, while the other smiled at him hesitantly. 

In his rather modest opinion, Kageyama thought they looked far too cheerful for having just kidnapped the heir to the throne. 

“You must be pretty tired, huh?” the second man asked, tapping his fingers on the handle of a blade at his side. It shone brightly in the moonlight, though Kageyama couldn’t help but notice that the grip was a little odd, almost too long. “I’d imagine that getting kidnapped isn’t very good for the nerves.” He continued, a wry smile creeping across his face. 

“Suga, you’re being far too friendly to this kid. We’re going to end up killing him in a few hours, what do you stand to gain from this?” the larger man asked. The silver haired man, Suga, paused for a moment, then let his soft smile twist downward into a sort of pout. 

“I’ll have you know, Daichi, that I like to think of myself as a good person.” 

“We just kidnapped this kid.” 

“Not the point. I’d like to think of myself as a nice person, so I am going to be nice to this poor child who has fallen into unfortunate circumstances. Is that really such a strange thing to do?” Suga asked, his tone slightly playful. Daichi rolled his eyes, and Kageyama fumed quietly. Well, he was quiet at first. 

“Can you stop calling me kid?” he snapped, “You can’t be that much older than me.” 

Daichi laughed a bit at that, but then put on a serious face. 

“It’s not the years, kid, it’s the mileage.” He uttered solemnly. There was a moment of silence, before Suga began to cackle and Daichi cracked a lopsided grin. 

“Shut up, you idiot.” Suga sighed, though not without a trace of fondness. Their amiability only served to frustrate Kageyama further. He had just been _kidnapped_ by a mysterious trio, was now lying on the _floor of a boat_ and was getting _slivers_ in his _legs,_ and he was probably going to _die,_ and these two dicks were casually joking around and plotting to kill him in the same breath. 

Though Suga was pretty nice, he guessed. 

Kageyama took a deep breath, about ready to scream for help, or just yell at the two before him, but his future tirade was silenced before it even began by a venomous voice striking through the air. 

“Get back to work, you two. _Now._ ” 

These were the only words spoken, but once they entered the air, both Suga and Daichi lost their relaxed demeanor immediately. Suga placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, almost out of habit. Daichi’s jaw clenched and he looked about ready to tackle someone, but otherwise, both of them stood still. As one, they stood and walked towards the blonde man from before, who Kageyama assumed was Tsukishima. 

Tsukishima had a perpetual sneer on his face, as though everyone and everything disgusting him. He looked down on everything, and this feat was made easier by his frankly obnoxious height. Kageyama already hated the man. 

Though the kidnapping may have had something to do with that. 

A freckled boy about Kageyama’s age was trailing along behind Tsukishima, looking slightly wary but also a little irritated. His demeanor was genuine, in a way Kageyama couldn’t describe, but since he was following Tsukishima around like a dog, he couldn’t be trusted. 

Tsukishima began calling out orders, and the freckled man, Suga, and Daichi went immediately to do his bidding. He began to walk towards Kageyama, a lopsided smile on his face. 

“As you gentlemen know, we have been paid to start a war. The reward was quite handsome. May I remind you that this reward is paying for your food for the next three months.” He remarked, shooting a loaded look towards Suga. Suga swallowed hard, and Daichi’s mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“We are to start this war,” he continued, drawing ever closer to Kageyama, “by killing the future King of Florin, sir Kageyama Tobio. Then, we deposit his body on the shore of Guilder, Princess Hana Misaki takes the blame for Kageyama’s death, and Prince Ushijima declares war over the assassination of his beloved. Quite simple, really. So,” he began to draw to a close, leaning down over Kageyama, “I expect this to go very well. Any trouble from any of you, and there will be… consequences.” He finished, glaring at each member of the crew separately. No one spoke. Tsukishima strode away from Kageyama, a bored expression on his face. 

“Yamaguchi, get this ship moving. Daichi, watch the prisoner. Sugawara, make sure no one is following us.” He ordered. 

“What are you going to do?” Daichi asked, a frown settling on his face as he took a seat next to Kageyama. 

“I’m going to kick back and relax while you three sail us across the channel to Guilder. Any other questions?” Tsukishima replied, a mocking expression on his face. Daichi simply stared at him for the longest moment, then turned away, muttering a litany of curses under his breath. 

Kageyama’s irritation grew exponentially as he festered in the bottom of the boat, stewing with murderous intent. Everything about the situation sucked, and didn’t see any easy way of remedying it. Of course, there was also the looming threat of his death hanging overhead. 

His hands and ankles were tied together with itchy wet rope, and the boat beneath him stank of mildew and rotten wood. He had a crick in his neck and his nose really itched, and he wasn’t really sure how his condition could get any worse. 

He was so focused on feeling sorry for himself that he didn’t notice Tsukishima approaching him. 

“Well, hello there, King.” He mocked him, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “You’re not very impressive, are you? Sure, you might be pretty, but you look like a bit of an idiot. A country boy, growing up playing in the dirt and fucking around doing who knows what. A kid like you doesn’t grow up to be a king. No one is that lucky.” Tsukishima’s eyes had a fiery quality to them now, as though he was speaking from a place Kageyama had never seen before. Tsukishima stared at him for a long moment, not speaking. Then he sneered and leaned down close, staring at Kageyama. He laughed, quietly, and Kageyama couldn’t help but be reminded of a viper. 

“I’m surprised someone like you is worth fighting a war over.” He remarked. He reached out, and once again the sensation of fingers around Kageyama’s throat appeared, and the blackness swept over his vision once more. 

When Kageyama woke for the second time, the sky was an inky black, with little in the way of moon or star light to guide the ship. He glanced over at Daichi, only to see that bigger man had fallen asleep, drooling slightly and snoring heavily. Suga had his gaze fixed behind the ship, peering at something in the distance. The freckled man, Yamaguchi, was steering the ship patiently through the choppy waters. Tsukishima was staring off into the distance, not paying attention to anything in particular. 

Kageyama carefully sat up, and began to work at the knots tying his ankles together. His fingers were cold, and they fumbled over the chafing rope desperately. He finally pulled himself free of the rope with a triumphant yank, and, without thinking too much about, tossed himself over the edge of the boat. 

His legs kicked madly as he began to swim away as fast as he could. He gasped for breath, the tang of the salt water stinging his eyes. He could hear shouting coming from behind him, Tsukishima most notably, and a strange hissing noise emanating from beneath him. 

A light began to shine on the water, eventually reaching Kageyama. He looked back to see the other four men standing on the edge of the boat. Daichi looked irritated, Suga worried, Yamaguchi rather indifferent, but Tsukishima looked positively livid. 

The four of them deliberated for a moment, though Kageyama only caught portions of the conversation, most notably “I only dog paddle!”. He considered swimming away, but the organic hissing noise increased in intensity, until it became a shriek that pierced Kageyama’s ears. 

“Ah!” Tsukishima cried, a devious grin winding across his face. “I almost forgot. Your highness, have you ever heard of the Shrieking Eels?” he called out over the water. Kageyama froze. The shrieking became louder, almost as if it was coming closer. 

Kageyama turned to the right, to see a lithe blue body breach the surface, undulating along the water. For a moment, he saw a flash of beady eyes and jagged teeth, but then it was gone. Kageyama started kicking frantically, but he could feel something sliding along his leg, and his breath caught in his throat. 

“The Shrieking Eels are quite nasty, don’t you think?” Tsukishima called, “They only live in the Florin Channel, and they feed on human flesh. People don’t come here rather often, so I would assume they would be rather…hungry. Don’t you agree?” he laughed loudly at this. Suga shifted uncomfortably, and Daichi looked as though he would be ill. 

The shrieking grew ever louder, and before he could react, Kageyama felt something sharp dig into his thigh. He let out a scream and kicked desperately, flailing in the water. Blood began to stream out of his leg, dying the water a pale pink. 

“If you get back on the boat, I can promise no harm will come to you until we reach Guilder. You will get no such promise from the eels.” Tsukishima snarled. Kageyama started to shake. The water was cold, and the eels were all around him, twisting and turning. Death by Eel or death by some asshole with a knife. Kageyama felt his options were rather unfairly limited. He was pondering which would be quicker for him, when he turned to see a gaping maw of teeth gliding towards him. 

The shrieking reached a fever pitch, and Kageyama felt his life flash before his eyes. He let out a shout and tried to swim away, but felt something pulling on the collar of his shirt, and before he knew it, Daichi had snagged him out of the water and hauled him onto the boat. 

“So kind of you to join us.” Tsukishima remarked, and with that, he stalked off to his prior perch on the boat. Suga grabbed a blanket off of the floor and wrapped it around Kageyama, who was shivering violently. 

“I don’t see what the point to saving me is, since you plan on killing me anyway.” He snapped, his teeth chattering. Suga pursed his lips, and turned away, returning to his lookout post. Daichi gave a heavy sigh and guided Kageyama to sit down where he had been before. He didn’t bother to retie the rope around his ankles. Kageyama felt like pouting. This was quite possibly the most aggravating and terrifying day of his life. He was almost on the verge of bursting into tears. 

Instead, he contented himself with quiet sniffles and stewing underneath the blanket as the ship continued its dreary way across the channel. 

At about dawn, Tsukishima rose to his feet, a cocky smile on his face. 

“Here we are,” he gestured, “The Cliffs of Insanity!” 

Kageyama thought the name was a very accurate one. 

The cliffs were completely vertical, rising up into the distance like an imposing monolith, discouraging all invaders and acting as an impenetrable wall. Only a giant could hope to kick its way through the mass of limestone and cruel rock that stretched on overhead. A single rope stretched its way down the face of the cliffs, swaying quietly in the breeze. 

Yamaguchi began to steer the ship towards the Cliffs, and as they drew ever closer, Kageyama felt a growing sense of dread. 

They were about a quarter of a mile away when Suga spoke. 

“Hey, Tsukishima? What did you say the chances of someone following us were?” he asked. Tsukishima narrowed his eyes, then dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. 

“The idea of someone following us is completely inconceivable, Sugawara. There is no reason anyone would wish to follow us to the Cliffs. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.” He declared, keeping his eyes on the cliffs yawning overhead. 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Out of curiosity, why do you ask?” Tsukishima called. 

“Because there’s someone following us right now.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” 

Tsukishima rushed back to behind the ship, glanced out over the waters, and cursed loudly. 

“Inconceivable.” He muttered, staring down the ship following along behind theirs. 

The ship was large, and ominous, with black sails billowing in the wind, and black wood creaking menacingly as it traversed the channel. 

“There must be a rational explanation for this.” Tsukishima argued, his eyes narrowed. 

“Oh yes, I’m sure, it’s just a man out for a pleasure cruise at the crack of dawn in eel infested waters.” Yamaguchi, of all people, remarked. 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.” 

“Sorry Tuskki.” 

“I told you not to call me that.” 

“Sorry.” 

Tsukishima shook his head. “That is beside the point. There’s no way this man is following us. No one in Florin or Guilder knows what our plan is, save for the man who hired us. This has to be a simple coincidence, that is all.” He announced. 

“He’s gaining on us.” Daichi called. 

“That’s inconceivable as well. Perhaps if you used your brain, you would know that, Daichi.” Tsukishima snapped. Daichi raised an eyebrow. 

“What was I thinking, of course you’re right. He’s not gaining on us, he’s just getting closer to us. Silly me!” he remarked, his tone dry. Tsukishima ground his teeth together. Kageyama had to admit he was a little amused by the sight of a flustered Tsukishima. 

After a moment, they reached the cliffs, and Tsukishima practically leaped off of the boat, shouting at the others to hurry up. He grabbed a hold of the rope and shook it out at the others. When everyone arrived, he began to climb, scaling up the rope like a monkey. Suga sighed and shook his head, but followed Tsukishima up the rope. Yamaguchi went next, then Daichi gestured for Kageyama to go ahead. 

Kageyama was fairly athletic, considering how many hours he spent playing volleyball, but climbing up the Cliffs of Insanity was a challenge he wasn’t entirely sure he was up to. He laboriously placed one hand over the other, trying to keep up with the others. 

“Damn, I should have paid more attention in climbing class.” He grumbled, feeling his arms begin to shake. They were about a quarter of the way up the cliffs, and when Kageyama looked downwards, he spied the mysterious black ship docking at the rocky shore below. 

Tsukishima was still climbing at an alarming rate, with Suga right on his heels. Yamaguchi was lagging a bit, but his expression was determined and he kept a steady pace. 

Daichi was fairly fast, and kept a steady pace as well. He never seemed to tire, putting one hand over the other as if he was merely going through the motions. 

They climbed in silence for a few moments, before a shout sounded from Suga. 

A man in black was running up the shore towards the rope. 

He was fast, frighteningly so, and within moments he was climbing the rope at a frankly alarming pace.  
Tsukishima spat out another curse and threw himself into the task at hand, climbing higher and higher. They were about halfway up the cliffs at this point, and Kageyama could see the man in black gaining on the group, with a fierce look in his eyes that made Kageyama rather uncomfortable. 

“Who is that guy?” Yamaguchi asked, glancing below him with worry plain on his face. Kageyama’s arms felt as though they were going to give out on him. 

“What makes you think anyone here knows?” Tsukishima grunted. Yamaguchi made a face. 

“It was more of a rhetorical question, Tsukki, but you know, go ahead and answer it for me, like a dick. No biggie.” He grunted. Kageyama was beginning to like Yamaguchi a bit more. He had a surprisingly scathing wit. 

They were about three quarters of the way up the cliffs when Kageyama could start to get a clearer look at the man in black. 

He wore a mask that covered the upper half of his face, and he was clad head to toe in black, much like his ship. He was rather small, but moved with incredible speed, and he was apparently quite strong, as he was gaining on Daichi rather quickly. 

Tsukishima managed to climb up farther than the others, and ended up reaching the top first. He hauled himself up, and turned to yell down at his subordinates. 

“Hurry up! If you get up here before he does, I can cut the rope to make him fall! Move it, you idiots! Go!” he shouted. Suga rolled his eyes and Yamaguchi made a face, but both increased their pace. Kageyama didn’t particularly blame them. He felt a tangible aura of menace emanating from the man in black. He too increased his pace, despite his arms screaming at him to stop. 

It was one of the more distinctly unpleasant moments of Kageyama’s life. And that included almost being eaten by the eels. He felt the presence of the man in black behind him constantly, invasive and ominous. He willed for his muscles to work harder, and kept climbing, not even caring that he was moving towards his death. Something told him that dying would honestly be more pleasant than being caught by the devilish man behind them. 

After what felt like an eternity, Kageyama finally reached the top. His arms felt limp and useless, and he was shaking from the exertion. Daichi hauled himself up soon afterwards, and Tsukishima immediately pulled out a knife and ran for the rock that the rope was attached to. It struck Kageyama that that same knife was probably the one Tsukishima was going to use to kill him. 

He watched as the man in black continued to scale the cliffs, about eight feet from the top. Tsukishima sawed at the rope with his knife, while Suga watched on with rather half-hearted concern. 

For a brief, terrifying, moment, Kageyama thought that the man in black would make it to the top, but then a snapping sound echoed around and the rope was slithering across the ground, and over the edge of the cliffs. 

“There, that ought to do it.” Tsukishima laughed, rubbing the dirt off of his hands. 

“Better make sure he’s dead.” Daichi reminded him. Tsukishima nodded. The five of them crowded around the edge of the cliff, peering down at the face below. 

At first, they didn’t see him. 

But, then, they did. 

Clinging to the rock face of the Cliffs was the man in black. 

For a moment, there was complete silence. 

And then, to everyone’s astonishment, the man in black began to climb. 

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me.” Tsukishima snarled. He grabbed Kageyama’s arm and roughly yanked him back, an ugly sneer decorating his face. He shoved Kageyama towards Daichi, and began to bark orders. 

“Suga, you deal with the asshole in black. Daichi, you watch the kid and follow me. Yamaguchi, stay close.” He barked, stalking further up the path along the top of the Cliffs. 

“Wait, wait, wait. By ‘deal with him’, do you mean you want me to kill him?” Suga asked, a look of concern lighting on his face. 

“Kill him, dismember him, decapitate him, whatever you want to call it. Just get rid of him!” he snapped, not bothering to turn back. Suga shot Daichi a look. Daichi looked about ready to disobey Tsukishima and stay with Suga, but instead he nodded at Suga in affirmation. 

“It’s okay, Suga, you’ve got this. It’ll be fine.” He said slowly. Kageyama couldn’t help but think that it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anyone else. 

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to do what I say?” Tsukishima shouted, his voice hoarse. Daichi paused for a long moment, then finally grabbed Kageyama by the arm and led him along the path, leaving Suga on his own. 

Left to himself, Suga turned, and gazed down on the man in black, who was steadily climbing still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave yams a bit of an attitude in this, woops. 
> 
> Also this is a prime opportunity to play "Spot the Until Dawn Reference"


	5. Koushi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this damn thing updated! 
> 
> This chapter is pretty long in comparison to the others, hope that's ok OTL
> 
> Also I'm a scrublord because I totally forgot to show you guys 
> 
>  [THIS](http://oikawacentric.tumblr.com/post/131422597309/god-bless-this-fic-and-disgustingweeabootrash-for)
> 
> Pls go shower this person with love and hugs because they're amazing!
> 
> Anyway, have some Suga backstory
> 
> Enjoy!

High up in the mountains, not too far from Florin, there was a small village called Arabella. It was never particularly clean, or spacious, but to Sugawara Koushi, it was home. He had no siblings, his mother had died in childbirth. The streets were grimy and Suga often went to sleep hungry.

He was fantastically happy.

Because of his father. Sugawara Yoshiwara was crotchety and absent-minded and never smiled. Suga loved him totally. Nobody really knew why. There was no reason in particular that stood out. Yoshiwara loved Koushi, probably, but love is a strange and often rather stupid thing.

Yoshiwara made swords. If you wanted a high quality sword, the likes of which never seen before, did you go to Yoshiwara? Did you hike up the trail into the mountains, wander the filthy streets of Arabella?

Of course not.

If you wanted a sword, you hiked to Madrid and spoke with Saeko. Saeko was loud and sharp as a knife, with a penchant for drinking too much and getting into trouble too often. People flocked to her from miles away, begging her to make their swords. As well they should have, Saeko’s swords were of the highest quality. Nobles around the world bragged to others about having a sword made by her. She loved her work, and if you had the time and the money, she would always produce her best.

However, at least once a year, someone would come to her with an impossible request. Perhaps a blade so sharp it could cut anything, or something equally ridiculous. Did Saeko say, “Sorry, I can’t make this for you?” Did she deny her customers’ requests?

Nope. She said, “Thank you very much, your sword will be ready in a few months. Fifty percent down payment, no checks please. I will notify you when it’s finished.”

Then she packed her things and traveled up to Arabella.

Suga loved when Saeko came to visit. She would ruffle his hair with a chuckle, pass him a piece of candy, then swagger into the hut Suga called home for the showdown between her and Yoshiwara.

“Yoshiwara.” Was always her only form of greeting, and Suga’s father would greet her similarly. She would stride into the front room, take a seat, and prop her feet up on the table with a shit eating grin.

“How have you been?” she asked. Yoshiwara grunted.

“As eloquent as ever, I see.” She would remark, examining her nails with false interest. It was at this point that the negotiations would begin.

“I need your help.”

Yoshiwara would remain silent.

“I recently gained a client, an affluent young noble. Very important, as I’m sure you know. He recently asked me to make a sword for his mistress, one that-“

“No.”

This was always Yoshiwara’s reply. He would only ever say one word, but he always meant it. At this point Saeko would begin to persuade him in earnest. Suga always enjoyed this part the most.

Saeko would use her intimidation tactics.

“No.”

Her wealth.

“No.”

She would bribe him with promises of alcohol.

“No.”

Next, when she became truly desperate, she would use her charm.

“No.”

Her rather meager gift for persuasion.

“No.”

At this point, Yoshiwara would always stop to offer her some more tea. Saeko would accept gracefully, then let out a loud, “WHY WON’T YOU?”

Yoshiwara would sit for a moment, reflecting on his answer. He was never particularly verbose, and when he did speak, he thought out his words carefully.

“Why, you ask? It does not matter, that is why. If this sword had some sort of purpose, perhaps I would be more inclined to assist you, but, my dear, I am not about to stoop so low as to make some stupid sword for a stupid noble’s stupid mistress. Ask me to make a sword for an eighty year old man to fight a duel with. His life is on the line, the sword matters. Ask me to make a sword for someone who is dueling to protect another. He is doing it for others, the sword matters. Ask me to make a sword for a woman carving out her own livelihood on the high seas, through any means necessary. She is fighting for her pride, the sword matters. I am not about to make a sword for a woman who will not use it, and let it gather dust on the shelves. Ask someone else, or better yet, make it yourself.”

These speeches always struck a chord with Suga. His father, in his eyes, was a truly great man. One who would only make swords for the right reasons. His father placed emphasis on things that mattered, nothing more. He was far from wasteful, and to Suga’s nine year old eyes, that was a quality to be admired.

Saeko would pause for a long moment, considering her options. It was rather funny to Suga. Saeko had known Suga’s father for most of her life, she was a close family friend. And yet, all she and Yoshiwara ever did was argue and banter over mediocre things. If Yoshiwara wasn’t in his forties, and Saeko wasn’t considerably younger, Suga would have considered her almost like a second mother. As it was, she was closer to an older sister.

At this point in the confrontation, Saeko would rise dramatically, turning her back on Yoshiwara.

“I made a commitment, Yoshiwara.” She would say, staring off into the distance. “I can’t make this sword. No one can, except for you. If I made a commitment I can’t keep, I have lost my honor. You leave me with no choice. I can never make swords again.” She would announce, her voice reaching a dramatic pitch. Then, she would turn and point at Yoshiwara with an accusing expression.

“You have ruined my career, Yoshiwara. I hope you are happy.” She would utter, locking eyes with the older man. Suga always admired Saeko’s tenacity in these showdowns. Saeko could look a lion in the eyes and feel no fear. 

Yoshiwara would roll his eyes, but every time, his expression would soften, and without fail, he would agree to make Saeko her sword. She would smile a cheeky grin, and begin chatting amiably with Yoshiwara. Suga would run outside to her carriage and find a veritable feast, with a fair amount of sweets saved for him. The three of them would eat dinner together and laugh merrily, and as the evening drew to a close, Saeko would make her final offer, as always.

“Come to Madrid and work with me. You’re too good to waste away in obscurity. You can put your name before mine on the sign. Sugawara and Tanaka. We’d be the best in the world.” She would declare. Yoshiwara would shake his head, a ghost of a smile crossing his face.

“I’m sorry, my dear, but I must decline.”

“Why?”

“Saeko, you are rich and famous, as you deserve to be. You are young and happy, you have a full life ahead of you. You make weapons for anyone who asks, however, and I simply will not do such a thing. I am poor, true, but I also do not have to suffer any fool who asks for a sword covered in jewels or some other such nonsense.” He said the same thing every time. Saeko would always pout, but accept his answer all the same.

She would return to Madrid with the promise of a new sword behind her, and would always stop to give Suga one last hug before she left. Yoshiwara would make Saeko her sword, and life would carry on. This was how Suga lived his life before the strange man showed up at his front door.

Suga remembered the moment exactly. There was a pounding on the door, and his father opened it, only to see an impressively clad young man with a haughty air standing in front of him.

“You are a swordsmith of some distinction.” The young man said. It was not a question. Yoshiwara raised an eyebrow.

“I do not know where you received your information, sir, but I am no such thing. I only do repairs on occasion, nothing particularly grand.” He replied. The young man stared at him, then pulled out a bag of gold.

“I will pay you generously to make me a sword.”

“I am afraid I must decline.” Yoshiwara responded. The young man drew himself up to his full height, towering over the older man.

“Sugawara Yoshiwara.” He spoke with authority, his eyes flashing. “I require a sword for a duel with the future King of Florin. I am determined not to lose. I should have only the best of swords possible for this duel. You are the best swordsmith for miles. Even Tanaka Saeko has asked you for assistance in the past. I am a great swordsman and I demand the best. You are the best. Make me my sword.” He declared, huffing grandiosely.

“Why should I?” Yoshiwara asked. The noble had stared him down for several moments, then lifted up his right hand. It had six fingers on it.

“You can understand the difficulties I face, I’m sure.” The nobleman announced. Yoshiwara’s eyes began to gleam, and he babbled to himself, muttering things about the grip and the balance and the other obscure terms that Suga didn’t know but understood were important.

“Will I have my sword or no?” the young noble asked, and Yoshiwara nodded, scurrying off to begin his work immediately. The man lingered in the doorway for a moment, and Suga let out a sigh and stood to face him.

“What will you pay my father for this sword?” he asked, eyeing the noble with suspicion.

“If the sword is to my expectations and as good as the others have said it will be, I will pay five hundred pieces of gold. However, I will not pay until I see the sword.” The noble responded, coolly examining his nails. Suga narrowed his eyes.

“Sir, as you may have gathered, we are quite poor, with little to our names. Do you have nothing to provide for us at this time? Nothing at all?”

The noble stared down at the small child for several moments. He seemed rather precocious, definitely beyond his years. Suga held his ground. The young man rolled his eyes and fished a gold piece out of his pocket, pressing it into the child’s hand.

“There. One gold piece. Happy?” he grumbled. Suga snatched it away and shoved it deep into his pockets.

“Absolutely joyful, sir. You may come back within a year, if the sword is not done by then we shall notify you when you arrive. Have a lovely day, sir.” Suga responded, and with that, the six-fingered man wandered off.

Yoshiwara had already thrown himself into his work, muttering about measurements and blade width and grip size, scribbling notes furiously, unaware that Suga had returned.

What a year that was. Yoshiwara was always busy, always working. Some nights, he would dance for joy at finally fixing a mistake, then the next weeping because he had found new ones, so miniscule that none other than a master would had noticed them. He went days without sleeping, weeks without evacuating his bowels. On particularly rough days, he would snatch Suga by the shoulders and stare into his eyes.

“Koushi. Understand this now.” He would always say. He would turn and gesture towards the pile growing in the corner, of discarded blades and grips and melted amorphous lumps of steel.

“This is art, Koushi. Understand. This is art, these failures and mistakes. This is art, and art is pain. Do not forget that, Koushi.” He would whisper furiously, and Suga would shrink away at the near madness reflected in his father’s eyes.

That year was filled with weeping, alternated with fits of joy and all-consuming work. Suga learned how to cook that year, out of necessity. He would shovel gruel into his father’s mouth, force him to drink some water, clean the house, throw out the ever-growing pile of rejects. Sugawara’s once blonde hair began to lighten until it was the color of his father’s blades.

What a year it was.

Suga still remembered the day his father had finished the blade. He had risen and walked to the kitchen, only to see Yoshiwara’s ultimate triumph resting on the table. His father sat and stared at it, motionless. Even in the darkness of the hut, the blade had gleamed.

“You did it, father.” Suga had laughed, out of sheer giddiness. His father had gave a heavy smile, for the first time in his life.

“You’re right, Koushi. I am now a true artist.” He whispered.

 

The noble man hadn’t thought so.

“It could be better.” He sighed, swinging the blade around fruitlessly. Suga had watched as the six fingered man discussed with his father.

“I’m not sure this is worth five hundred gold pieces. I’ll give you ten.” He decided, pursing his lips. Yoshiwara furrowed his brow.

“It does not matter then. Keep your money, and I shall keep the sword.” He declared. The noble frowned.

“I didn’t say I’d leave the blade. I just said I’d pay you ten gold pieces for it.” He replied. Yoshiwara grit his teeth.

“I spent a very long year on this sword, sir. It is my best work. If it is not satisfactory to you, then I shall merely keep it, and you can save your ten gold pieces.” He declared. The young man’s eyes hardened.

“That is my sword, and I shall have it at the price I requested.”

“The sword is my son’s now, he shall enjoy it for the rest of his days. You may leave now, sir.” Yoshiwara declared. The noble grinned, venom dripping from every aspect of his countenance.

“You are a disgusting old man and a fool.” He declared.

“You’re an enemy to art and I pity your ignorance.”

These were the last words Sugawara Yoshiwara ever uttered.

The noble’s blade flashed once, twice, and Yoshiwara’s heart was ripped to pieces.

Suga screamed, watched as his father’s body hit the floor. The noble looked down at the body, rolled his eyes, and sauntered away from the door. The six fingered sword lay on the kitchen table. Suga couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t. His father was fine, soon he would get up and they would have tea. Everything was fine, fine, fine.

Suga’s thoughts coalesced into a burning core of revenge, and he grabbed the six fingered sword and ran out the door.

The noble was heading back towards his carriage when he heard a shrill ten year old’s voice behind him.

“Pig!”

The noble turned, his expression only mildly irritated.

“Coward!”

The other villages began to gather at the noise, muttering in hushed tones at the sight of Suga pointing his sword towards the noble.

“Pig! Coward! Murderer!” Suga uttered, stalking closer and closer towards the noble. If it had been anyone else, the sight would have been ridiculous. But Sugawara’s eyes were burning, his gait purposeful, and for the slightest moment, the noble was afraid. But then he regained himself, and stared down the boy with a sneer.

“Someone collect this child before he oversteps himself.” He said to the crowd. No one moved.

Sugawara ran forward and pointed his sword at the noble.

“I, Sugawara Koushi, challenge you, coward, pig, ass, murderer, fool, to a duel!” he screamed.

“Enough members of your family have died today, child. Put your sword down.” The noble responded. Suga narrowed his eyes.

“When you beg me for death, then I will put my sword away.” Suga snarled. The young man rolled his eyes.

“Someone get this infant away from me.” He sighed.

“The infant is ten and he stays. Now fight me!”

The noble turned to face Suga.

Of course, there was no contest. The match was over in fifteen minutes. Suga was a ten year old against a near-grown man. However, for the first few seconds, the noble was nervous. Suga’s genius was barely beginning to blossom, and it was showing.

Suga was disarmed, and he stood, proud and defiant, begging for nothing. The noble sighed, rolled his eyes, and lowered his sword.

“I’m not going to kill you, because you’re talented and brave. But you’re quite rude, and that will get you in trouble one day. I will give you a reminder to be nicer in the future.” With these words, the noble’s sword flashed, once, twice. Suga felt a stinging pain on both sides of his face, then felt the distinctive slippery slide of blood dripping from his cheeks. Everyone who watched knew that he would be scarred for life. White flashed behind his eyes, but he refused to fall. After a time, the noble drove away in his carriage, and at that time Suga let darkness claim him.

He awoke to see Saeko’s face, marred with an interminable sadness.

“I failed him.” He whispered. Saeko shook her head.

“Go to sleep, Koushi.” She sighed.

The bleeding stopped after a day and the pain left after a week. Suga and Saeko buried Yoshiwara, and then for the first and last time, Suga left Arabella, and traveled with Saeko to her home. After a month, the bandages on his face were removed, but the scars were still red. Eventually, they softened some, but they never left him. Saeko cared for him for two years.

One morning, Suga was gone, with three words in its place. I must learn.

Learn? Learn what? Hell if Saeko knew. All she knew was that Suga was gone and that she was a young woman who made swords.

So she continued to make them, and her fame spread over time. The rich fell over themselves to get her swords. After a time, the work grew to be too much, so she doubled her prices. The customers still came. She toiled day after day over her craft, making dozens upon dozens of swords. Again the work increased past a reasonable point, so she tripled her prices. The work still came. Her life continued on this way for years, until her swords were triple their quadrupled price and had to be paid for in jewels a year in advance and the wait was up to three years. Nothing could stop the rich. They had to have swords by Saeko or nothing. She began to drink expensive wine, and quite a lot of it. She grew very, very rich. One particular morning, a young man walked into her shop.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you haven’t paid in advance, I can’t make you a weapon.” She sighed.

“I have my weapon.” The young man replied, and tossed the six fingered sword her way.

Saeko quite literally tackled him to the ground with her hugs.

“God, you bastard, it’s been ten years! Where have you been?” she demanded. Suga smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

“I was learning how to fence.” He admitted. Saeko stared at him incredulously.

“For ten years?” she asked. Suga shrugged.

“Give or take a couple of months.” He replied. Saeko rolled her eyes.

“Did you do anything else? At all?”

“Well, I squeezed rocks.” He offered. 

“Rocks.” Saeko responded, speaking slowly.

“It made my wrists strong. I slept sometimes, too.”

“Ok, so you slept, squeezed rocks, and slept. Anything else I should be aware of?” Saeko teased.

“I sprinted places a lot, so I could be fast.” He admitted. “That’s about it though.”

“That’s it?” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I suppose it is a little ridiculous, but I thought it was worth it.” He replied. Saeko regarded the young man before her. Tall, with bright eyes and a devilish smirk. He seemed taut, almost. Even motionless he looked fast. Saeko frowned.

“So where did you go? To study fencing, I mean.” She asked. A broad smile crossed Suga’s face.

“Oh I went all over, Saeko! It was incredible. To Venice, Bruges, Budapest, Scotland. Anywhere I could find someone to teach me.” He exclaimed, his eyes shining. In that moment, Saeko could still see some of the small child from so long ago.

“So you learned how to fence. Why?” she asked. Suga’s face grew solemn.

“Isn’t it obvious? I can’t fail my father again.” He drew himself to his full height, proud and intimidating. “I’m going to find the son of a bitch that killed my father and make him regret ever coming to our door.” He uttered. The conviction in his voice told Saeko that this was an oath he had made long ago. Saeko nodded slowly. He relaxed back into a rather cheerful demeanor.

“So, after all this time, what brings you here?” Saeko asked.

“I need to know if I’m ready to kill that man.” Suga replied, far too easily. Saeko paused for a moment, the nodded.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

And so they went to Saeko’s courtyard.

Suga was ready. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind. He was lightning fast, with a tenacity unparalleled by any Saeko had seen before. His technique was flawless, and he never seemed to tire. Though Saeko may have been a little biased, she would have said that Sugawara Koushi’s skill with the sword easily surpassed that of the Corsican Wizard (which was the rank above Master in swordsmanship) Shirabu’s.

She told him so, and he broke into a relieved smile.

“Thank you.” He sighed, and gave her a hug.

“I would not enjoy being the six fingered man.” She replied.

 

The next morning, Sugawara had set out on his journey to get revenge. He criss-crossed Spain, Switzerland, Germany, Portugal, Europe, and every country in between. He began to be discouraged after three years of failure, however. He had searched Europe thoroughly, asking people everywhere if they knew of a six-fingered noble. He had even figured out what to say when he encountered the six fingered man. “Hello, my name is Sugawara Koushi. You killed my father, prepare to die.” His plan was simple and direct, with no frills, and yet. It hinged upon the idea that he could find the six fingered man, which he simply could not do.

He began to worry that maybe ten years was too long of a time to study. The six fingered man could be getting rich in America, or cruising around the West Indies, gallivanting across Asia. Or maybe even…Dead? 

At the age of twenty three, Suga began to have a few glasses of wine to help sleep at night. At twenty four, he had a few to help him wake up in the morning. At twenty five, he was drinking nearly constantly and the world was collapsing around him. He had been searching for five years, had was living in daily failure. In addition to that, something terrible was happening.

Fencing was beginning to bore him.

He was just too good. Everywhere he went, he would challenge a local master. Everywhere he went, they would be disarmed within minutes. His life, his quest for revenge, all became pointless. He found little reason to get up in the morning.

At twenty five, he gave up the ghost. Stopped searching, stopped fencing. Stopped doing anything besides drinking. He was a shell of his former self.

It was about at that time that Tsukishima found him. At first, he only gave him more wine, but then, he began to wean him off the bottle. Tsukishima had heard of Suga before, and his skill with the blade. He had a dream. With his brains, Suga’s steel, and someone else’s muscle, they could become the most feared criminal organization in the world.

That “someone else” turned out to be Sawamura Daichi. He was tall, with a smile that could kill, a jawline you could grate cheese on, and thighs the size of tree trunks.

Suga had never really thought about it before, what with wanting to get revenge for his father and all, but now that he considered it, he was so, so gay.

Of course, Daichi had to not only be hot but be nice too, and after a time, Suga couldn’t consider himself anything other than royally fucked. Hopefully literally sometime in the future.

Naturally, Daichi was clueless, so Suga wallowed in his sappy feelings and tried not to embarrass himself too much.

Tsukishima united the three of them, and they became exactly what he had hoped for. They stole, they plotted, they killed on occasion. Every seedy underbelly of every city had heard of them. Word had it that if there was a problem, you asked them to fix it. They began to get money, more than any of them had ever had in their life. Suga’s blade was working again, and Daichi grew stronger and stronger along the way. At some point, they picked up a fourth member, Yamaguchi, and everything was working out rather well for the foursome.

Of course, that was until Suga was asked to kill an innocent prince and then their mysterious pursuer and start a war between two countries. Yeah, that was a little out of his comfort zone.

But, he owed Tsukishima. He owed him a lot. So when he said, “Kill the man in black”, the man in black had to die…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you caught it, yes Yoshiwara totally made a sword for Yachi.


	6. The Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!
> 
> I haven't said this in a while, but THANK YOU for reading and commenting and bookmarking and leaving kudos on my work. It makes my day every time I see something new, and it reminds me of one of the reasons I love to write so much.
> 
> Hinata and Suga finally have their big duel...
> 
> Hope you like it!

Suga paced along the top of the cliff, contemplating the moral dilemma placed before him. He had never been particularly fond of killing people, which was rather counter-intuitive to being a member of a renowned criminal organization. There was a slight, insignificant really, chance that this had something to do with seeing his father murdered right in front of him. Maybe. Tsukishima was typically much more gung ho about the murdering part, as he carried a Machiavellian attitude towards his situation. If the ends justified the means, then killing people to make a living wasn’t so bad, right? 

Suga had killed before, of course, though he tried to only murder criminals, and even then only if they attacked him first. It was never a particularly pleasant experience. Something about watching the light fade from his enemy’s eyes unsettled him deeply, and he never really became used to the idea that he had ended lives with his own hands. Sometimes, he would have flashbacks to the moment of his father’s death and have violent shaking fits, and have to sit down for a time and be comforted by Daichi. 

The only person Suga was really interested in killing was the man who murdered his father. If ever there was a life worth ending, that man’s life was it. 

Last time Suga had checked, the man in black climbing up the face of the cliff didn’t have six fingers, and the prince they had kidnapped hadn’t killed his father either. 

Despite all of this, Suga was standing on top of a cliff face ready to murder a (so far) relatively innocent man, just because Tsukishima had asked him to. However, in all of his years traveling the world and fencing to his heart’s content, he had learned one thing. If you hesitated, even the slightest bit, before hurting your enemy, then they would strike you without mercy. So, he couldn’t hesitate. It was that simple. The man in black had to die. 

Said man in black was about fifty feet below the lip of the cliff, advancing slowly, and with considerable effort put into doing so. Suga was beginning to get a little antsy. Sitting up there and contemplating how much he detested killing people was not making killing the man in black any easier. He paced along the edge again and again, until he started to wear a trail down in the dirt. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned over the edge of the cliff and shouted down at the stranger. 

“How’s it hanging?” he called, giggling a little at the pun. The man in black, currently hanging off the face of the cliff, stared up at him with an incredulous expression. 

“I’m good, I guess?” he replied, obviously confused by the turn of the events. Suga gestured down at the man in black. 

“Slow going?” he asked. The man in black didn’t respond for a little, merely advancing up the cliff face a bit more. Then, after a moment’s pause, he responded. 

“Um, I’d love to make conversation at a different time, but I’m a little busy, as you might have guessed. I don’t suppose you’d mind waiting a bit?” 

Suga scratched at the dirt with his toe. He really just wanted to get this whole damned endeavor over with. He leaned back over the cliff face. 

“Do you want me to throw you a rope?” he asked. The man in black’s countenance lightened considerably at that, only to be dampened again by suspicion. 

“Why would you throw a rope down for me? You were running from me a few minutes ago.” He asked. Suga scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile. 

“Well, it’s funny you should ask that. I’m kind of, um, here to, well, kill you? I was just getting a little antsy…That sounded a lot better in my head.” He finally responded. The man in black stared at him for a moment. 

“Well, that puts a bit of a damper on our friendship.” He replied, “I suppose you’ll just have to wait.” 

“I could give you my word as a swordsman that I won’t kill you until you’re ready and have a fighting chance.” Suga entreated. The man in black shook his head. 

“No good. I’ve known too many swordsmen.” 

“I’m going crazy up here.” 

“I’d be willing to trade places with you anytime.” The man in black sighed. By this point, he was about thirty nine feet from the top of the cliff. And he was just sitting there. Not moving. He was panting so hard Suga could hear him from the top. 

“Are you okay?” Suga called down, bearing a concerned expression. The man in black nodded. 

“I’ll be fine. It’s just, a very long climb, as I’m sure you know, and I’m a little tired. Give me a minute, I’ll be up in probably another fifteen minutes.” He panted. Suga frowned. Fifteen minutes. Inconceivable! 

“Look, I’ve got an extra piece of rope up here, I’ll just throw it down and you can grab on and I’ll haul you up.” He explained. The man in black remained obstinate however, shaking his head. 

“If I grabbed onto the rope and you started hauling me up, there’s nothing to stop you from just dropping me to die. That’d make killing me pretty easy, right?” he replied. Suga shook his head. 

“I’d never do that, what kind of person do you think I am?” he protested. 

“I know you’re the kind of person who kidnaps innocent princes and kills people.” The man in black retorted. Suga frowned. 

“You’ve got me there, I guess. But a person’s got to make a living somehow, right?” he sighed. The man in black nodded in agreement. 

“I see where you’re coming from there.” He acquiesced. Suga made an irritated face. 

“Is there anything I can do to get you to trust me?” he asked. The man in black shook his head. 

“Nothing comes to mind.” Suga, fed up, rose to his full height. 

“I swear on the grave of my father, Sugawara Yoshiwara, the greatest swordsman to walk this earth, who was murdered before his time and whose blade was passed on to me, his son. You will reach the top of this cliff alive!” He declared. There was a long silence, until the man in black gave a heavy sigh. 

“Throw me the rope.” 

Moments later, the man in black was sitting on a rock beside the cliff. 

“Thank you.” He sighed, stretching his arms. Suga nodded. 

“It’s nothing. We’ll wait until you’re ready.” He responded. 

“Again, thank you.” The man in black replied. There was a beat of silence. 

“I must ask, why are you following us?” Suga questioned, folding his arms. 

“You have something of a lot of value.” The man in black explained. Suga didn’t much care for how vague he was being. 

“We have no intention of selling anything.” He ventured. The man in black shrugged. 

“That’s your business.” 

“So why are you here?” 

The man in black didn’t respond. Instead, he rose off of the rock. Suga took a moment to survey the territory around them. The top of the cliffs was rocky, with a few meager tufts of grass dotted along the ground. It would be difficult to maintain even footing, and the few holes dug into the ground by foxes and snakes and the like promised a chance of a broken ankle. A few trees twisted their way up from the cracked ground, their roots gnarled and provided ample opportunities to trip. Gulls swooped low overhead, cawing noisily without a care. It was wonderful ground for a duel, Suga decided. This place would be a challenge. Everything, from the uneven ground, to the sheer thousand foot drop of the cliffs, was perfect. It would provide the challenge Suga so desperately craved. 

Of course, that was provided that the man in black could fence. 

_Really_ fence. 

Suga did what he always did before a duel, and unsheathed his sword, pressing the flat side of the blade against each side of his face, parallel to his scars. Then he examined the man in black. He was rather small in stature, but he had proved himself capable in many aspects. The only question was whether he could fence. 

_Really_ fence. 

Suga sent a quick prayer skyward. He hoped that the man in black was a formidable opponent. He hoped this duel would be one he would remember for a lifetime. He hoped that the challenge would remind Suga why he loved fencing so much. If he had to kill the man in black, he hoped that the latter would at least put up a fight. 

“Alright, I think I’m ready now.” The man in black declared, extending his hand. Suga shook it. 

“You seem a decent person. I hate to kill you.” Suga sighed. The man in black smiled. 

“You seem a decent person. I hate to die.” 

And with that, the man in black unsheathed his sword, and Suga grabbed the blade his father made. 

He put it into his left hand. 

Suga had been starting all of his duels left handed lately, he did so to see if he could challenge himself more. He found it to be good practice, though he was still far better with his right. The man in black was left handed as well, which made Suga feel a little bit better. His weakness was up against the other’s man strength. That would serve to even the playing field a bit. 

Then, they touched swords, and the battle began. Suga immediately started on the offensive, sending a few quick thrusts towards the man in black’s stomach. The man in black parried twice and dodged the third struck, shifting on his feet nearly constantly to avoid losing his balance. Suga stepped back, and blocked a strike that came swinging for his head. He could feel the power of the man in black’s sword, and he knew it was a force to be reckoned with. 

This preliminary strike prompted the man in black to continue attacking, and he did, with wild slashes and a loose, violent style that Suga had not seen before. He let the man in black continue attacking, maintaining a solid defense and righting his footing as he was forced backwards. Then, his wrist flicked, and the man in black’s slash was parried. Suga kicked a foot out and dodged behind a nearby tree, leaving the man in black to cut at air. The change was unexpected, and the man in black lost his balance for a moment. Suga took the opportunity and leapt back into the offensive, slicing away cleanly at the man in black, who seemed to barely be fending him off. 

First blood was his. 

He had pinked the man in black. It was a mere scratch on the wrist, nothing major, but it was bleeding, and it was his. Suga gave a self-satisfied smirk. It was nice to know that he was still the best. 

The man in black immediately hastened in his retreat, and ended up backing towards the cliff’s edge, his blade flashing furiously. Suga was not particularly concerned. He merely followed the man in black, forcing him closer and closer to the edge. 

It was at this point that the man in black launched his greatest assault yet. His blade was mere flashes of light, and the sound of metal crashing on metal reverberated throughout the plateau. He hacked and stabbed and cut his way along through pure force. Suga found himself being backed up against a group of boulders a small distance away from the cliff’s edge. He knew that if he was cornered he wouldn’t be able to fend off the man in black for much longer, but he couldn’t devise a proper plan with the other man chasing after him like a madman. 

Suga’s heart was beginning to pound, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. This, _this,_ was the challenge he had been searching for all his years. His head was clear, his body running on instinct, the only thing he could think of was his sword and the way it moved. 

The man in black forced him farther and farther back, until Suga felt his back touch the cold wall of stone behind him. At this point, the man in black gave a mighty thrust, aimed at Suga’s heart, and Suga blocked it by the skin of his teeth. The sound of metal on metal screeched through Suga’s brain, and the man in black began forcing an unbearable pressure down, the blade inching closer and closer to Suga’s chest. Suga gave a snarl, then stopped forcing the man in black’s sword away from him. He ducked in the same instance, and suppressed a shudder as the man in black’s sword hit the boulder behind him with a dull thud. 

Suga took the opportunity, and sprinted away from the boulders, turning to face the man in black, who watched him from a fair distance away. 

“You’re very good.” Suga announced. The man in black nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Thanks. I’ve worked hard to get that way.” He agreed. 

“You’re better than me.” Suga continued. 

“So it seems. But you’re smiling. Why?” 

“Because I know something you don’t.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I am not left handed.” And with that, Suga transferred his blade into his other hand, and the tide of the battle turned. 

The man in black once again found himself barely fending off Suga’s blade. He tried to side step, parry, block, anything he could, but nothing was working. He could block fifty thrusts, but the fifty first flicked through, and now there was a line of red on his arm. He could dodge thirty ripostes, but the thirty first would slice his shoulder. 

The wounds were not serious, but they kept coming, and the man in black could do little aside from flee from Suga’s onslaught. Once again, the cliffs became a factor in the battle, and the man in black found himself drawing closer and closer to the edge. He showed no fear, despite his impending doom, instead he remained with a passive expression and did his best to fend off the furious assault. 

When things looked their worst, and the man in black was about to teeter over the cliffs, he began to smile. 

“You’re amazing.” He supplemented. Suga gave a grateful smile, but did not cease his attack. 

“You’re about to die, and yet you’re smiling and offering compliments. What’s got you so cheery?” Suga asked, his tone conversational. 

“I’m not left handed either.” 

And with that, the man in black switched hands, and the fight truly began in earnest. And Suga was forced to retreat yet again. 

“Who are you?” Suga demanded, parrying the man in black’s attacks with increasing desperation. 

“No one important.” 

“I need to know.” 

“Get used to disappointment.” Was the man in black’s only response, and he continued to drive Suga back. Both of their blades were invisible, and the skies crackled and the earth shook. Their duel seemed to transcend mere fencing, and was more like a clash between two gods. 

Despite it all, Suga was losing. 

He was amazing, the best swordsman since the Corsican Wizard Shirabu. He was fast, strong, smart. He had tried everything he knew. But the man in black was a hair faster, a touch stronger, just a bit smarter. It wasn’t much. 

But it was enough. 

They met in the center of the plateau, and neither held anything back. Suga fought with a quiet fury, and the man in black hailed down blow after blow. Anyone watching would have been in awe of the pure skill demonstrated, and the raw power could make anyone’s hair stand on end. Suga tried everything he knew. Every trick, every block, every tactic he could think of. Nothing worked. He was beaten. Bested. Defeated. 

He had been beaten by the man in black. 

The man in black gave a final flick of his wrist, and Suga found himself disarmed. He didn’t cry, didn’t beg for mercy. He merely dropped to his knees with a dignified air. 

“If you don’t mind, it would be nice if you did it quickly.” He spoke quietly, with little theatrics. He closed his eyes, taking his last few moments to reconcile himself. He sent a quick apology to his father. He tensed up, ready for the final blow, when- 

“I would rather have my hands fall of then kill an artist like you. It’d be like killing the Da Vinci of fencing. But,”- and here he laid a heavy blow against the side of Suga’s head with the butt of his sword-“I can’t have you following me either. Please understand that I respect you a lot.” Suga fell unconscious, and the man in black turned, running up the path to follow Tsukishima… 

“Shit!” Daichi shouted, startling Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. “He beat Suga.” He announced, feeling a heavy feeling settling over his chest. There was a distinct possibility that Suga was dead, and Daichi didn’t quite want to believe it. He curled his hands into fists. 

“Inconceivable!” Tsukishima exploded, his face turning the color of an overripe strawberry. Daichi rolled his eyes, ignoring the painful heat building up behind them. 

“Oh of course not, silly me. Suga killed the man in black, because Suga never loses! And now, that guy running up the path, wearing all black and a mask, is totally Suga! Suga’s not dead, he’s perfectly fine!” he exclaimed, his sarcasm sounding a little bit desperate. 

“Suga must’ve been tricked or something,” Yamaguchi whispered, his face pale, causing his freckles to stand out all the more, “that’s the only way he could’ve lost.” 

“Well, it doesn’t really matter how it happened, does it?” Daichi snapped, his voice bitter, “he’s dead either way, right?” he sighed, the edges curling into a quiet sob. Tsukishima looked about ready to combust. 

“Yamaguchi, bring the prince with you.” He ordered, hurrying up the path, “Catch up with us later.” He called back down to Daichi. 

“Got any suggestions?” Daichi remarked. Tsukishima rolled his eyes. 

“Kill him, obviously!” he snapped, and with that, he was gone. Daichi turned to face down the path, and saw the man in black running up it towards him. Daichi picked up a small boulder in his hand, tossed it up and down experimentally. He wound up, and threw it as hard as he could at the nearest rock. It hit dead center, leaving a crack behind in the surface of the boulder. Daichi tried again. Two inches to the left. Two inches didn’t make as much of a difference if you were aiming for someone’s head, though. 

Daichi cracked his knuckles with anticipation, watching the man in black run up the pathway. Daichi was going to make him pay for killing Suga, preferably with his life. He grabbed another rock, and ambled off to the side, lying in wait. 

And so he watched the man in black sprint up the path. He watched, and he waited… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every pun I write makes me die a little more on the inside
> 
> Also I suck at writing actiony stuff can you tell


	7. Daichi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First update in like two months lmao how are y'all doin
> 
> This is just Daichi's backstory, but we're slowly approaching the half way mark, so hold on tight!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, I appreciate it very much!
> 
> Hope you like it!

Daichi’s father used to say that when he was born, the sky had rumbled and the earth had quaked in fear. Daichi, at the age of six, was always quite distressed by this, and would begin to cry, for he hadn’t meant to scare anyone. His mother would always let out a jovial laugh at this, and remark that the earth had no reason to be afraid. 

She was mostly right. 

Daichi was a big kid; he stood a head taller than his peers and was twice as wide. However, he was a softie at heart. He would cry whenever he stepped on a bug, and he always stopped to help old women cross the road. This quite delighted his mother, who was herself a gentle soul, but proved to be rather aggravating to his father. 

Daichi’s father was a small, reedy man. He sported no facial hair, walked with a perpetual hunch, and was balding prematurely. His was a life of mockery and bullying, for multiple reasons. He looked weak, he had little wit to sport, and he was always a little bit different from the others. Daichi’s father had the vivacity beat out of him rather early on in life. Because of this, he wanted the exact opposite for his child. 

Daichi’s father had wept tears of joy when he saw his son. He had been particularly excited about his son’s rather impressive size, a whopping twelve pounds. Supposedly, he had immediately begun to mutter about teaching his child to box, and having him grow up to be a strapping young man. Yes, Daichi’s father had big plans for his son. 

Of course, Daichi’s father had a life already full of disappointments. Why should his son be any different? 

Daichi’s father had never explicitly came out and told Daichi that he was a disappointment, but the idea was communicated often enough. Weary expressions, tired sighs, bent backs and subtle shakes of the head whenever Daichi stopped to wave to the people crossing by, when he stopped to rescue roly-polys that were on their backs. These were the ways that his father told him what he thought. 

Daichi wasn’t supposed to be kind. He was supposed to be brave and strong and fulfill his father’s misplaced dreams. 

Oh, he had the build to do so, definitely. He was tall, with muscle everywhere that never took too much to develop. His arms were solid, his thighs thick, and he was smart enough to use these things to his advantage as well. He just didn’t have the heart for it. He didn’t care much for fighting, he preferred to read or listen to music. He didn’t particularly feel the need to show off his strength, instead he liked to use his mind. Eventually, he developed a healthy wit that became apparent in conversation, where his silver tongue could toss out barbs with the greatest of ease. 

His mother adored him. His father ignored him. 

He spent many hours contemplating the futility of not having any passion for something you were good at. 

When Daichi was sixteen, his mother walked out the door and did not come back. 

He knew better than to ask his father what was wrong. He had heard the arguments, seeping through closed doors. He had seen the venomous glares, the terse words over breakfast. 

He didn’t blame his mother for leaving. 

He did wish that she hadn’t left him behind, however. 

He understood why, of course. His mother had made a choice for herself, one that she was justified in making. It didn’t mean she didn’t love him, just that she was tired of his father. Daichi understood that. He was rather tired of his father as well. 

At the age of seventeen, Daichi left his house for good, and did not look back. 

He had little trouble finding work, at first. He was strong, fairly easy on the eyes, and intelligent enough. He worked at a dairy farm for a time, then spent a spell working as a bus boy. There was one memorable stint where he worked as a bartender, and bore witness to many a fight. 

Daichi grew much stronger as time went on. After a bit of experimenting, he discovered that he could lift small boulders with ease, and kick through walls with minimal difficulty (keep in mind, this was when walls were made of stone, not flimsy plaster). He continued working odd jobs, moving place to place, never quite settling down. 

He ran into trouble at the age of twenty two. 

Trouble came in the form of a shady man and a regrettable hook up, and Daichi woke up in the morning to see a young man scrambling out of Daichi’s room with all of his money in hand. Daichi was, unexpectedly and swiftly, completely broke. 

Things grew worse from there. 

Daichi arrived at work that morning in his uniform, ready to begin his rather regrettable job of delivery boy, only to see that his boss had a smile on his face reminiscent to a snake’s. He was fired before he had a chance to begin his shift. Apparently ‘repeatedly setting off the alarm inside the building, no matter how many times it was claimed to be an accident’ was frowned upon in the delivery business. 

Left destitute and without a job, Daichi was at a bit of a loss. It wasn’t that he was unused to moving around, it was more so that moving from place to place usually required money, which Daichi definitely did not have. 

Opportunity arose in a regrettable manner. 

After a time spent punching trees and knocking them over with a litany of curses to accompany it in a fit of rage, Daichi was approached by a squat, greasy man with an impressive mustache that seemed to make up for his lack of stature. 

“You’re quite strong.” The man remarked. Daichi looked down at his hands. His knuckles were torn up from colliding against the bark. He had spent the past few minutes pretending that each tree bore the face of the asshole who stole his money. He turned his gaze back to the strange man and simply shrugged. 

“I suppose so.” He replied. The man chewed on a toothpick resting between his teeth for a moment, seemingly considering what to say next. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what prompts a man such as yourself to go knocking trees over with your bare hands?” he inquired. Daichi made a face upon the recollection of the events that had transpired only hours ago. 

“I was robbed.” He replied, choosing not to elaborate on the sordid details of the situation. The little man’s eyes lit up, which somehow only served to contribute to their beady appearance. He rubbed his hands together with a greasy grin. 

“Is that so? Well, I have quite the opportunity for you,” he began. 

This was how Daichi began fighting for money for the first time. 

It was unpleasant work, to put it mildly. 

Daichi was definitely good at it, there was no doubt about that. He was strong, and a fair amount smarter than most of his opponents, both of which worked quite well in his favor. He had also seemed to amass a large amount of fans, particularly women, who would crowd into the arenas where he fought and shrill his name amidst adoring cries. In certain respects, Daichi had it good. 

And yet, every time he sent another opponent to the ground, he would feel another stab of guilt. His mother would surely have fainted if she knew what he was doing, and his father probably would have jumped for joy. Both of these ideas were sickening to him. But, he was broke, and desperate, and after every fight, he reasoned that he would simply quit as soon as he had enough to support himself. 

Then he lost. 

It was largely due to a set of unfortunate coincidences and some unlucky timing, but that didn’t change the fact that one moment Daichi felt something collide with his face and the next he was on the ground. He awoke to see his manager hovering over him with a face the color of plums. 

“You lost! You lost, you _idiot!_ ” He snapped, his meaty hands clenched into fists. “The odds were 45-1 for you, you utter ass! I just lost everything!” he screamed. He kept yelling, shaking his fists and gesticulating wildly, but Daichi only registered an obnoxious noise. The pain in his face was truly making itself known, and all Daichi really wanted to do was curl up and take a very, _very_ long nap. 

He wasn’t given the opportunity to do so. 

He was out on his ass only moments later. Out of a job, yet again. It was about at this time, while Daichi was contemplating his next move, sitting on a rock and trying not to break anything out of frustration, that Tsukishima showed up. 

Now, Daichi had already experienced his fill of being approached by mysterious strangers, and chances are that if things hadn’t worked out the way they had, Daichi probably wouldn’t have bothered to go with Tsukishima at all. 

Unfortunately, Daichi was never very good at making decisions when attractive people were involved. Specifically, not when gorgeous silver-haired angels with beauty marks showed up in his life. 

He had never told anyone this, for fear of the surely inevitable mockery, and he would deny it if anyone asked, but the only reason he joined up with Tsukishima, and, by extension, joined a criminal enterprise, was absolutely so that he could potentially have a shot with the hot guy standing behind Tsukishima. 

He still couldn’t really bring himself to regret that decision. 

At first, he had done the work simply because it was work, and talked with Suga on occasion. After a time, however, Daichi began to notice that he was doing strange things. He would jump in front of a wayward blade to shield Suga from a strike. He would always stand up for Suga if Tsukishima was feeling particularly vindictive that day. At first, Daichi had passed it off as a particularly strong friendship, until he caught himself thinking about what it’d be like to kiss him. 

He imagined that it would be rather pleasant. 

Of course, Suga was oblivious to all of this, as far as Daichi knew, and so the latter simply carried on as usual. 

But now Suga was dead. Felled by the man in black. Who was currently running up the hill towards him. Daichi felt little love towards Tsukishima, but he was more than willing to avenge his best friend. So he watched, and he waited, as the man in black sprinted in his direction… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daichi sounds lowkey kind of emo lmao 
> 
> Also this is hella short rip me
> 
> Hmu on tumblr, haven't talked to anybody in a while :)


	8. The Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I have finally finished the update for this beast! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading my work, I can't stress enough how much I appreciate it. Comments inspire me to keep writing and are much appreciated, even if I take forever and a day to respond OTL. 
> 
> This chapter is pretty short, but we're close to the halfway mark, and the showdown between the man in black and Tsukishima is up next! Stay tuned!
> 
> Hope you like it!

Daichi whipped a rock in the man in black’s direction with the force of a hurricane. The man in black only had a millisecond to react before the boulder crashed into a stone and crumbled into grit. Immediately, the man in black yanked out his sword, and cast a wary look at his surroundings. Daichi didn’t feel a particularly strong need to keep hiding, so he stepped out into the path, another boulder ready in his hand. The man in black regarded him coolly as he advanced, betraying very little underneath his mask. 

“You’re quite fast, if you managed to dodge that shot.” Daichi remarked, hefting the boulder experimentally in his palm. The man in black gave a wary nod. 

“I’ve been told that before. I’ll take it as a compliment, even though you just tried to kill me.” He responded. Without warning, Daichi launched another boulder at the man in black, and was once again astounded by the man in black’s agility. He leaped up into the air, and somehow managed to rise clear of the boulder’s trajectory, landing back on the ground like a cat. It was almost as though he had spontaneously taken flight. 

Well. Throwing another boulder at him probably was not the best strategy. 

The man in black seemed much more guarded at this point, watching Daichi with extremely suspicious eyes. Daichi heaved a sigh and wiped the grit off of his hands on his pants. 

“So now what? You throw another rock at me and I dodge again?” the man in black taunted. Daichi shook his head. 

“No, we face each other with no tricks. No weapons, no fighting dirty, just skill against skill alone. Sportsmanlike.” Daichi explained. The man in black cocked an eyebrow. 

“So I’ll put down my sword and you’ll put down your rock and we’ll try to kill each other like civilized people?” he remarked. Daichi rolled his eyes. 

“It doesn’t sound as cool when you put it like that, but fine. Whatever.” With these words, Daichi dropped into a fighting position, and the man in black did the same. Daichi couldn’t help but appreciate this. The man in black didn’t whine, or protest, despite Daichi’s obvious advantage in size. He merely accepted his fate. It spoke to his character. 

There was a brief silence, then Daichi spoke. 

“I don’t particularly enjoy doing this. You seem like a decent person.” He remarked. The man in black shrugged. 

“No one is forcing you to kill me.” He replied. Daichi narrowed his eyes. Little shit. 

“Well, I’d like to live through this, for starters, and you did kill my best friend a minute ago, so I may be a little bit more inclined to kick your ass.” He responded. The man in black furrowed his brow. 

“You must be confused, sir. I haven’t killed anyone.” He replied. Daichi stopped dead. His mind was racing. Could Suga…? 

No. He shook his head. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up. He saw what had happened. Suga was dead. There was no arguing it. 

“It isn’t very wise of you to lie to me.” Daichi snarled, rising up to his full height. The man in black, though confused, did not hesitate, immediately dropping into a fighting stance. They circled each other warily for a few moments, a tense silence enveloping the scene. 

“I have to ask though, why the mask?” Daichi pondered, not dropping his threatening demeanor. The man in black gave a small grin. 

“They’re pretty comfy. I’m guessing they’ll be all the rage pretty soon.” He remarked, beginning to slowly advance. 

There was another pause, and then Daichi struck. 

His fist flew through the air, collided cleanly with the man in black’s face, and sent him sprawling. With the man in black unconscious, Daichi quickly set to work, breaking both legs and tossing the man in black into the ravine running parallel to mountain path. With that, he wiped his hands clean on his pants and whistled as he made his merry way back up the path to rejoin Tsukishima. 

At least, that was what would happen in theory. 

It actually went a bit like this. 

Daichi swung his fist at lightning speed, and the man in black dodged it without a care in the world. Daichi grunted with frustration, and tried again. This time, his fist barely scraped the man in black’s bicep, but failed to do any real damage. The man in black did not take his eyes off of his opponent, his entire demeanor radiating sheer focus. 

It was quickly becoming apparent to Daichi that while he may have been the strongest and the largest, the thing he had a clear deficiency of was speed. And he would have quite a few problems killing the man in black if he couldn’t even catch him. 

Daichi’s opponent still faced him squarely, barely even winded. The man in black didn’t seem particularly threatened, which only served to irritate Daichi even further. Daichi snarled and charged at the man in black once again, and landed a hit. It was close, barely glancing off the man in black’s side, but the smaller man was sent staggering backwards, barely keeping his footing. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. The hits didn’t have to have impeccable aim. As long as Daichi could hit him even a little bit, it would be enough. 

His confidence bolstered, Daichi began to follow the man in black, sending punches at regular intervals, his arms working like pistons. The man in black dodged the hits, but only just, and Daichi knew he couldn’t avoid his punches forever. 

Another hit to the man in black’s shoulder sent him reeling, stumbling away from Daichi as quickly as he could. Daichi felt an impeccable, impenetrable calm settle over him. He felt his impending victory in his bones. All he needed was patience, and the man in black would be dead and Suga would be avenged. 

At least, that was what he thought. 

It was about at this time that he felt a blow strike his stomach. 

It didn’t hurt, not really, but the implication of more hits to come in the future was present. The man in black seemed to have recovered, at least a bit, and was standing staunchly in defiance of Daichi, his eyes fiery. Daichi nodded slowly. 

“That was a pretty good effort. I’m sure it would’ve hurt anybody else a lot.” He began. “But,” he continued, a slow, terrifying grin stretching across his face, “you’re going to need to try a lot harder than that to hurt me.” 

The man in black considered this for a moment, then nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” He remarked, and an equally fearsome grin spread across his face. Daichi cracked his knuckles and advanced once again. 

This time, he experienced even more difficulties in making his blows lands. The man in black moved like a being possessed, swerving and ducking and even jumping clear of Daichi’s punches. He didn’t seem to tire at all despite the acrobatic maneuvers he performed, and Daichi had to wonder if the man in black was even human. 

Daichi biggest mistake was failing to pay close enough attention. 

He swung yet again, and the man in black dodged, to the right, and then, scooted around behind Daichi. Daichi moved to turn and faced him, but before he could, he felt an uncomfortable pressure around his throat. 

The man in black had wrapped his arms around Daichi’s throat, and was squeezing as hard as he could. Daichi clutched at his throat, attempting to dislodge the unwelcome presence, but his fingers fumbled and his vision was going blurry. He quickly backed up, slamming the man in black as hard as he could against a large rock resting along the side of the path. The man in black grunted, but didn’t release his grip. Daichi tried again, harder this time, but couldn’t dislodge the man in black, who was clinging onto him like tick. 

Daichi clawed at the man in black’s arms, tried to send punches his way, but by this point it was too late. 

He was running out of air. 

His legs felt numb, his chest hollow, and he couldn’t see straight anymore. His vision was blurring over with static, and still he desperately fumbled at the man in black, attempting to free himself from the unbearable pressure. 

_“I am going to die”_ , he thought, as he sank to his knees, and he inwardly cursed himself for being so weak. He pitched forward, and the last thing he did before collapsing in the dirt was mutter an apology to Suga. The darkness flooded his vision, and Daichi couldn’t feel anything anymore. 

There is a thin line between unconsciousness and death, and the man in black took great care not to cross it. He disentangled himself from the unconscious giant, and adjusted his mask. He cast an almost regretful glance down at the slumbering man on the path, then shook his head to clear his thoughts. He began to sprint up against the path, towards his final challenge. 

Two down, and one (the hardest) left to go… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked this a couple of time, so just for reassurance, no, I have not forgotten about Yams


	9. The Battle of Wits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this is so short I'm sorry

Tsukishima was waiting for him. 

Actually, he had taken the time to set up a little picnic, with a few snacks spread out upon a clean checkered blanket. Yamaguchi sat nearby, happily munching on a sandwich, and Kageyama was perched directly next to Tsukishima, a blindfold covering his eyes, his hands tied with twine, and a wickedly long knife, the kind used to hack at bone, held to his throat. 

As the man in black traveled up the path, Tsukishima looked almost bored, though it seemed to be more of a façade than anything else. He pushed his glasses up his nose and leveled a calm stare at the intruder. 

“Glad to see you could make it.” He remarked, a pretentious casual aura surrounding him. The man in black stared him down, his expression unreadable. Tsukishima gestured with the knife, and began to speak. 

“Let’s be clear. If you take a single step closer, I will cut this man’s throat and you’ll have come all of this way for naught. So, if you want him dead, by all means, keep moving forward.” 

The man in black froze where he stood. There was no sound to be heard, safe for the quiet chewing of Yamaguchi as he finished off his sandwich. 

“You see,” Tsukishima continued, “you beat Daichi and Sugawara, who were both quite strong in their own respects. I, however, don’t quite have the physical capabilities to take you on. I would have to be rather stupid to challenge you in a duel of strength, wouldn’t I? As it stands, I will not remove this knife from the prince’s neck until you step away, and if you kill me, my companion will be more than capable of finishing him off. So I suggest you make your merry way down that path and get the fuck out of my way.” He spat. The man in black regarded his opponent with a contemplating expression. 

“Well, I guess we’re at an impasse then. I might not come any closer, but I’m definitely not leaving anytime soon.” The man in black responded, not breaking eye contact. Tsukishima gave a thin smile. 

“Very well, then. What do you propose instead?” he asked. The man in black remained quiet for a moment. 

“You said you don’t want to have a challenge of strength, right?” the man in black asked. Tsukishima didn’t respond. The man in black swallowed hard, and for the first time, seemed to appear a little nervous. “Um, how about a battle of wits instead?” he offered. Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. 

“You want to challenge me? To a battle of wits?” he asked. The man in black nodded. A wicked grin crossed Tsukishima’s face. “To the death?” The man in black nodded once again. “I accept.” 

“Pour the wine.” The man in black ordered, making his way to the picnic. He sat cross legged, rummaging through his pockets. Tsukishima poured two goblets of wine and placed them on the ground between the two. The man in black produced a small packet from his clothing and ripped it open. He offered it to Tsukishima, who examined it carefully. 

“Make sure you don’t touch it.” The man in black cautioned. Once Tsukishima was satisfied, he passed it back to the man in black, who proceeded to grab both of the wine glasses and turn around. When he turned to face Tsukishima again, the packet was empty, and the goblets of wine sat between the two once again. Tsukishima let out an anticipatory grin. 

“This is iocane powder. Odorless, colorless, and one of the deadliest poisons known to man. It doesn’t have a taste, and it dissolves completely in liquid. Pretty nasty stuff.” The man in black remarked. 

“Let me guess, I’m supposed to guess which one doesn’t have the poison, and we’ll both drink to see who’s right and who’s dead?” Tsukishima inquired. The man in black shook his head. 

“Not quite. Whichever one you pick, your friend over there is going to drink.” The man in black explained, pointing at Yamaguchi. The color drained out of the freckled boy’s face, and Tsukishima’s smile slipped for a moment. 

“Are you trying to increase the pressure on me by making me responsible for someone else’s life? Please. That’s not going to work.” Tsukishima snapped, but his hands seemed slightly unsure of themselves, fidgeting aimlessly in his lap. The man in black shrugged. 

“If it doesn’t matter, then you shouldn’t have a problem, right?” he asked. Tsukishima stared at him for a long moment, then cursed quietly and turned his attention on the goblets before him. 

“Well, if you assumed that I was stupid, then you’d put the poison in the goblet in front of me, because only an idiot reaches for what is given to them in a game of poison. If that was true, I can’t choose the goblet in front of me. But you know I’m far from moronic, so you would have put the goblet in front of you, which means that I cannot choose that one.” 

The man in black was beginning to grow a little nervous. He knew a battle of wits was a bad idea. But he’d had no choice. 

Tsukishima continued with his conjecture. 

“You’re pretty strong, because you beat Daichi, so you could have put the poison in your cup, relying on your strength to save you. So I can’t choose that goblet. But you were also comfortable with challenging me to a battle of wits, which means that you must be smart. You would know that this poison is too strong to overcome through sheer strength, and you would put the poison in my cup. So I cannot choose the cup in front of me.” 

The man in black was truly beginning to fear the outcome of this duel. If Tsukishima figured it out, then all would be lost. Tsukishima remained quiet for a moment, analyzing the cups before him. Finally, he fixed the man in black with a steel gaze. 

“You’re not as smart as you seemed, apparently.” Was all he uttered. 

“That remains to be seen. Which cup do you want your friend to drink?” The man in black demanded. Tsukishima grit his teeth and tentatively pointed towards the one closest to him. The man in black gave a smile that bore a tinge of relief. Tsukishima saw this, and retracted his answer, instead grabbing the cup closer to the man in black, and passing it to Yamaguchi with shaking hands. 

Yamaguchi’s face was devoid of any color, causing his freckles to stand out starkly against his skin. 

“You’re quite faithful, to trust him with your life like that.” The man in black remarked. Tsukishima shot him a fearful glare and turned to watch Yamaguchi hold the cup up to his lips. The man in black grabbed his own and prepared to drink, making sure they drank at the same time. The two of them swallowed their mouthfuls of wine and set the goblets aside. 

“You guessed wrong.” The man in black remarked. Yamaguchi’s brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What do you mean? I feel fine.” He responded. Tsukishima whirled around, a victorious smirk at the ready, surely about to let loose some snide comment, when Yamaguchi collapsed. Tsukishima stopped what he was doing immediately and began to shake Yamaguchi, entreating him to wake up. 

The man in black calmly stood and untied Kageyama, dragging the prince to his feet. Yamaguchi was beginning to foam at the mouth, and Tsukishima was crying now, checking for a pulse. The man in black dug into his pocket and pulled another packet, tossing it at Tsukishima’s feet. Tsukishima looked up at him questioningly, vestiges of fury evident in his eyes. The man in black heaved a heavy sigh. 

“I haven’t killed anyone so far on this journey, and I have little intent to start now. Give him this, but not until I’m gone. He’ll be unconscious, and very sick, but alive. I suggest you avoid crossing passing paths with me again.” He explained. He then turned away, dragging Kageyama along behind him. 

“Pleasure doing business with you all.” He called over his shoulder, and made his way parallel to the ravine, running with remarkable agility. In a moment, he was gone. 

“Where are you taking me?” Kageyama demanded. The man in black turned to face him, his expression hooded. 

“Nowhere of consequence to you.” He replied. Kageyama immediately dug his heels into the ground, refusing to move his feet any further. The man in black turned to face him with fury in his eyes. 

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and why you’re here.” Kageyama declared, ripping his wrist out of the man in black’s grasp. 

“Then we’re going to be here for quite a while.” The man in black responded. He stared at Kageyama for a moment, then rolled his eyes and gestured towards the ground. 

“Sit. Rest while you can, because we’re not stopping again.” He ordered. Kageyama looked tempted to refuse, mostly out of sheer stubbornness, but sat down anyway. 

“So, it was your cup that was poisoned the whole time?” he asked. The man in black shook his head. 

“They were both poisoned. I spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder.” He responded. Kageyama stared at him incredulously. 

“Who _are_ you?” he demanded. The man in black gave a rueful smile. 

“I’m no one of consequence. Are you ready? We’re leaving soon.” With these words, the man in black dragged Kageyama to his feet and they were running down the path again. 

“Are you taking me for ransom?” Kageyama panted, keeping pace relatively easily. “I can assure you that you will be paid an even greater sum if you set me free.” 

“So you’re rich then? How pleasant for you. Money is not a principal concern of mine, but by all means, keep trying to convince me to let you go. It’s pretty entertaining.” The man in black remarked. Kageyama fumed for a moment, then spoke again. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. He’ll find you eventually.” He spat. 

“He?” 

“Prince Ushijima.” Kageyama explained. “He’s a great hunter. He’s probably on his way to find me right now.” He declared. The man in black rolled his eyes. 

“Oh right, Prince Ushijima. Your handsome stud of a true love. Cute.” He droned. 

“He’s not my true love.” Kageyama protested with vehemence. The man in black raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh really? You’re getting married, you know that, right?” the man in black remarked. Kageyama shook his head. 

“I don’t love him. I never have. He’s an asshole, you have no idea. I haven’t loved anybody in years.” Kageyama explained. The man in black raised an eyebrow. 

“Why not?” he asked. Before Kageyama could answer, a rapport of cannon fire sounded in the distance. The two turned to look over the edge of the coast, and saw a fleet of ships making their way towards the coast of Guilder, flying the flag of Florin. 

“Speak of the devil, there’s your boyfriend now. How touching.” The man in black sighed, then doubled his speed, making a breakneck speed along the edge of the ravine. Kageyama stumbled for a moment, but regained his pace. 

“Anyway, as I was saying, why don’t you love the prince? You seem like the type who would go for money.” The man in black remarked, and for a moment, his voice seemed slightly more bitter than before. 

“You’re wrong. I…I loved somebody once.” Kageyama sighed. “He was poor as dirt and it ended up killing him.” Kageyama heard his voice start to crack a bit at the end, and he winced at how weak he sounded. Hinata had died a long time ago. Kageyama didn’t need to go dredging up bad memories at a time like this. 

“Oh, really? You moved on awfully quickly then. Marrying a prince so soon afterward? You felt _nothing at all_ when he died, didn’t you? You probably didn’t cry even _once_. Such a cold hearted person you are, your highness.” The man in black snapped. His voice seemed colder than it ever had before. Kageyama reared up to his full height, his eyes blazing. 

“Don’t mock my pain! I _died_ that day!” he roared. The man in black paused for a moment at this, and it gave Kageyama the opportunity he’d been waiting for. He shoved the man in black into the ravine with all his might, and watched the mysterious figure tumble down the steep slope. 

“And you can die too, for all I care.” Kageyama snapped. He turned away, ready to go home, when he heard a faint call from the ravine. 

“As…you…wish…” 

Kageyama stopped, and turned, as he saw the man in black begin to remove his mask. 

“Oh my god.” He whispered. He spied the familiar shock of bright orange hair, that blinding smile- 

“Hinata!” Kageyama screamed. Without taking even a moment to think about it, he ran down the steep slope, and lost his footing, tumbling down the side of the ravine. He couldn’t bring himself to mind though, because he knew what waited for him at the bottom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading (I can't think of any vaguely entertaining commentary to make this time around rip me) 
> 
> (I was this close to killing yams you have no idea guys) 
> 
> (comments are always appreciated I love them pls validate me)


	10. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys oh my god it's been like three months just fuck me up
> 
> It took me forever to back into the groove of things and I'm still a little rusty as far as this au goes so please be kind 
> 
> This is also short af I'm sorry I tried. 
> 
> Anyway yeah Kags and Hinata meet up again yay

Kageyama wondered if he was dreaming. 

He had to be, because Hinata was there. Hinata was smiling and pulling him close and kissing his cheek and wonderfully, absolutely _alive_. 

“Where have you been?” Kageyama demanded, wrapping Hinata in a fierce hug. Hinata paused for a moment, then leaned in for a kiss in a hopelessly obvious attempt to dodge the question. Kageyama couldn’t really bring himself to care, because _holy shit_ Hinata was alive and they hadn’t seen each other in years and Kageyama would have been perfectly glad to sit at the bottom of this ravine with him until he grew old and gray, no matter how many times Hinata drove him crazy 

“I really missed you.” Hinata finally sighed, breaking away for a moment. Kageyama felt himself start to tear up a little bit, and he quickly rubbed the tears away. He didn’t want anything to interfere with him seeing Hinata’s face. 

“It’s been awful without you.” Kageyama admitted. Hinata had the decency to look slightly guilty, and he grabbed Kageyama’s hand and squeezed it, in a silent apology. 

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long. It’s been a long few years.” He explained. Kageyama pursed his lips, the joy of their reunion slightly dampened by the memories of the past few years. Getting engaged to Ushijima was bad enough, but in just the last day or two he had been kidnapped, nearly murdered, then sort of kidnapped again. 

“What even happened to you? The last I heard from you’d been killed by the Dread Pirate Yachi.” Kageyama asked. Hinata actually laughed a little at this. 

“Oh, no way. Yachi and I are tight.” He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. Kageyama furrowed his brow and gave Hinata a dubious look. 

“You’re tight with _the Dread Pirate Yachi?_ The murderess who takes no prisoners? Who stole millions of dollars from Florin alone? The one who singlehandedly held off half of the king’s armada?” he asked, his voice increasing exponentially in pitch. Hinata nodded vigorously. 

“Yeah, she’s hilarious. It’s kind of a long story,” he tacked on, spying Kageyama’s disbelieving face. 

“I’ve got time.” Kageyama remarked, folding his arms and sitting cross-legged. Hinata sighed and began his story, one that probably would have been better experienced in person. 

“On the way to America, our ship was attacked by Yachi. She was doing the usual, plundering the ship and stabbing the screamers, and she came up to me.” 

“That sounds terrifying.” Kageyama shuddered. Hinata shrugged. 

“Actually, she’s a lot smaller than I expected. Anyway, she came up to me, and said ‘Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.’” 

“What did you say?” Kageyama demanded. Hinata gave a crooked grin. 

“I told her that I had someone at home, the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life.” He explained. Kageyama began to blush a ridiculous shade of red, and he stared pointedly at the ground. Hinata, sensing his weakness, gleefully carried on. 

“His eyes are like the ocean at night, and his hair is super _soft_ and _shiny,_ and he has the _biggest-_ “ 

“Shut up!” Kageyama roared, elbowing him in the side, “You don’t even know that for sure!” Hinata collapsed into a fit of giggles, and Kageyama couldn’t help but give a fond smile at the sight. 

“Ok, so maybe I didn’t say all of that, but I did tell her that you were pretty amazing.” Hinata admitted, his voice growing soft. Kageyama’s heart was going to explode, right then and there, he just knew it. 

“Ok, go on.” Kageyama prompted. 

“Well, I went on for like twenty minutes about you, and Yachi finally cut me off, and said ‘It seems like you’ve certainly got something worth living for. Tell you what, I had a love like that once. I get it. If you can make yourself useful, I might let you become part of my crew.’ Of course, I accepted, and I ended up sailing around with Yachi for months.” Hinata explained. Kageyama furrowed his brow. From where he stood, Yachi seemed like a bit of a sap for a bloodthirsty pirate. 

“For a long time, I mostly just cleaned things and helped cook, boring stuff like that. After a while, Yachi took a liking to me and she had me accompany her on raids. We even sacked one city twice.” Hinata added, incongruously cheery. 

“Wait, wait, wait. You raided towns? You stole from people?” Kageyama demanded. Hinata shot him an incredulous look. 

“I was living as a _pirate_ for three years, Kageyama. What exactly would you have preferred I do? I didn’t kill anyone, if that makes you feel better,” Hinata replied. 

“I guess,” Kageyama grumbled, “Alright, keep going.” 

“After we’d been working together for a long time, Yachi came up to me and asked if I wanted to go get you back. Of course, I said yes, and she immediately started training me to become my own pirate. She gave me a ship, a crew, everything I could have needed.” Hinata continued. 

“If you were a pirate for so long, why didn’t anyone know about it? I didn’t hear anything about a Dread Pirate Hinata.” Kageyama asked. Hinata’s formerly cheery expression was now crossed with a sheepish smile. 

“Well, the truth is that I kind of sucked at it. Not even kind of. I was an _awful_ pirate, Kageyama, you have no idea. I’d go and demand for other ships to surrender, and they’d laugh at me!” Hinata despaired, tugging on his hair. Kageyama laughed at the mental image. 

“Well to be fair, it is kind of hard to be intimidated by someone who’s five foot four.” Kageyama joked, only laughing harder when Hinata shoved him playfully. 

“Maybe you should be the pirate, dumbass, you’ve already got the awful personality for it.” Hinata growled. Kageyama only laughed harder and motioned for Hinata to carry on. 

“Anyway, I was so bad that Yachi actually started tearing up a little every time I tried to raid a ship. I kept trying though, and eventually I was good enough that I could make ends meet. I’ve been building up a fortune for the past few years, and as soon as I knew where you were, I came to get you.” Hinata finally finished with a brilliant smile, and Kageyama felt a twinge of guilt. 

“Shoyou…I’m sorry that I got engaged to Ushijima. You have to believe me, though, I didn’t move on from you. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You’re the first and only love I’ll ever need. I thought you were dead this whole time, if I had known…” he began. He was cut off by Hinata kissing him softly on the lips. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I should have come to find you sooner. I shouldn’t have let any of this happen. So I’m sorry too.” He muttered, grabbing Kageyama’s hand. 

“I won’t let us get split up again.” Kageyama promised, his conviction shining through clearly on his face. “I won’t.” 

“Good.” Hinata beamed, finally getting to his feet. He extended his hand and hauled Kageyama upright. “I have a ship just on the other side of the ravine. If we can outrun the prince and make it there in time, we can get out of here, and I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” He promised. Kageyama nodded vigorously. 

“Yeah, let’s get going. Who knows how much time we’ll have.” 

_____

From his position in the armada, Prince Ushijima gazed upon the Cliffs of Insanity. The thrill of the hunt was beginning to intoxicate him, and he surveyed the area with sharp eyes and a dangerous smile. Someone had clearly climbed up the cliffs, most likely using a rope, which showed that not only was the newcomer strong, he was tenacious as well. 

“Oikawa. I need to get to the top of those cliffs.” Ushijima ordered. Oikawa heaved a long-suffering sigh. 

“Can’t make it easy on me, can you Ushiwaka?” he muttered. He motioned for Iwaizumi to follow him, and the two went to make preparations. 

Once they reached the top, Ushijima cast a careful eye on the scene before him. The footprints scuffed into the ground told a story, one that Ushijima didn’t think he cared for very much. Oikawa surveyed the path leading off, running next to the ravine. 

“Do you think he went that way?” He asked, pointing to indicate the direction he meant. Ushijima rolled his eyes. 

“Of course he went that way, Oikawa. Unless you see any other routes that he could have taken? Fallen into the ravine, perhaps? Or took a tumble off the cliffs?” he examined the scene before him once again, ignoring Oikawa’s steadily purpling face. 

“Two people fought a duel here. Most likely Tsukishima’s swordsman and our stranger.” Ushijima declared. 

“So if the stranger won, where is the loser?” Oikawa asked. The three took a moment to survey the area, but spied no sign of a body. Ushijima pursed his lips, deep in thought. After a time, he began to set off down the path, walking parallel to the ravine. 

“I don’t need to concern myself with some thug who lost a duel. I have other items on my agenda. Our number one priority is to find to Kageyama, and bring him back to the castle.” He declared, purposefully striding off into the distance. 

Further up the path, Ushijima noticed signs of a body having lain in the grass, but once again there was no body to be found. 

“Maybe he threw the bodies in the ravine?” Iwaizumi suggested, peering over the edge to the depths below. 

“Possibly,” Ushijima conceded. They continued onward, only to see the remnants of what looked like a picnic. A puddle of vomit sat in the grass. Oikawa wrinkled his nose at the smell, while Ushijima examined the overturned glass of wine. 

“It looks like the newcomer managed to defeat everyone in Tsukishima’s company,” He finally concluded, “There’s iocane powder in this glass. Obviously, since Kageyama is nowhere to be found, we can assume that he was kidnapped yet again,” Ushijima declared. 

“Someone’s running through the ravine!” Iwaizumi shouted, pointing downwards. Sure enough, two figures in the distance sprinted along the bottom of the ravine. 

“Shit! Is that Kageyama?” Oikawa asked, peering off into the distance. Ushijima began to smile, a frankly disturbing sight. 

“Why are you so happy?” Oikawa demanded, severely unnerved by Ushijima’s expression. 

“Obviously the kidnapper doesn’t know where this ravine ends.” Ushijima explained. There was a moment of silence, then understanding dawned across Iwaizumi’s face. 

“Oh. Shit.” 

“What?” Oikawa asked. 

“They’re heading straight for the Fire Swamp.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams out of fear of the unknown*

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://disgustingweeabootrash.tumblr.com/) , feel free to come and chat!


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